m 
W 


IRELAND'S 


WELCOME  TO  THE  STRAHR. 


AN  EXCURSION  THROUGH  IRELAND, 


IN 


1844  &  1845, 


FOR    THE    PURPOSE    OF    PERSONALLY   INVESTIGATING     THE 
CONDITION  OF  THE  POOR. 


BY  A.  NICHOLSON. 


NEW  YORK; 
BAKER    AND     SCRIBNER, 

145  NASSAU  ST.,  AND  36  PARK  ROW. 
1847. 


Entered  according  to  the  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1847,  by 

A.  NICHOLSON, 

in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States, 
for  the  Southern  District  of  New  York. 


471 


S.W      BENEDICT, 

itsreotyper  and  Printer,   16  Spruce  Street. 


OSTCSPOI'ISE  LIBRARY 


PREFACE 


A  Preface  is  like  a  porter  at  the  entrance  of  a  castle 
or  a  dinner-party  ;  however  necessary  his  attendance 
may  be,  and  however  dazzling  his  livery,  he  can  expect 
but  a  hasty  brush  from  the  passers  in  ;  it  is  the  castle 
they  want  to  see,  it  is  the  dinner  they  have  come  to  eat. 
Knowing,  however,  that  every  public  act  demands  a  pub- 
lic explanation,  I  give  my  candid  reasons  for  doing 
so  strange  a  work,  and  for  doing  it  in  so  strange  a 
way. 

We  have  had  many  "  Pencillings  by  the  Way,"  and 
*'  Conciliation  Halls,"  and  "  Killarney  Lakes"  from  the 
tops  of  coaches  and  from  smoking  dinner  tables.  But 
one  day's  walk  on  mountain  or  bog,  one  night's  lodging 
where  the  pig,  and  the  ass,  and  horned  oxen  feed, 
"  Like  Aaron's  serpent,  swallows  all  the  rest." 

^'  Remember,  my  children,"  said  my  father,  '^  that 
the  Irish  are  a  suffering  people  ;  and  when  they  come 
to  your  doors,  never  send  them  empty  away."  It  was  in 
the  garrets  and  cellars  of  New  York  that  I  first  became 
acquainted  with  the  Irish  peasantry,  and  it  was  there  I 
saw  they  were  a  suffering  people.  Their  patience,  their 
cheerfulness,   their    flow   of    blundering,   hap-hazard, 


iv  PREFACE. 


happy  wit,  made  them  to  me  a  distinct  people  from 
all  I  had  seen.  Often,  when  seated  at  my  fireside, 
have  I  said  to  those  most  dear  to  my  heart,  "  God 
will  one  day  allow  me  to  hreathe  the  mountain  air  of 
the  sea-girt  coast  of  Ireland — to  sit  down  in  their  cabins, 
and  there  learn  what  soil  has  nurtured,  what  hardships 
have  disciplined  so  hardy  a  race — so  patient  and  so  im- 
petuous, so  revengeful  and  so  forgiving,  so  proud  and 
so  humble,  so  obstinate  and  so  docile,  so  witty  and  so 
simple  a  people." 

Those  who  then  laughed  at  my  vagaries,  have  all 
gone  down  to  the  dust.  The  world  was  before  me,  and 
all  mankind  my  brethren.  *'  I  have  made  you  desolate. 
I  want  you  for  other  purposes.  Go,  work  in  my  vine- 
yard," was  the  word.  I  conferred  not  with  flesh  and 
blood.  No  pope  or  priest,  no  minister  or  prelate  aug- 
mented* my  purse,  to  enable  me  to  spy  out  the  naked- 
ness of  the  land.  I  came  "  a  warfare  at  my  own 
charges."  I  came  to  gather  no  legends  of  fairies  or 
banshees,  to  pull  down  no  monarchies,  or  set  up  any 
democracies ;  but  I  came  to  glean  after  the  reapers,  to 
gather  up  the  fragments,  to  see  the  poor  peasant  by 
wayside  and  in  bog,  in  the  field  and  by  his  peat  fire, 
and  to  read  to  him  the  story  of  Calvary.  I  came  to 
linger  with  the  women  at  the  foot  of  the  cross,  and  go 
with  them  early  to  the  sepulchre.  I  have  done  so  ;  and 
should  the  fastidious  reader  say  that  this  condescending 
to  men  of  low  estate,  this  eating  with  publicans  and 
sinners — above  all,  this  lodging  in  a  manger,  is  quite  in 
bad  odor  if  not  in  bad  taste,  he  must  be  told  it  wag 
because  there  was  no  "  room  for  me  in  the  inn,"  or  be- 
cause my  pained  feet  could  go  no  further. 

I  had  counted  the  cost.     I  knew  there  were  professed 


PREFACE.  V 

Christians  in  the  nineteenth  century,  who  would  be  for- 
getful to  entertain  strangers,  and  would  ask,  "  where 
hast  thou  left  those  few  sheep  in  the  wilderness  ?"  I 
knew  there  were  "  doorkeepers  in  the  house  of  God," 
who  would  say,  "  Sit  thou  here  under  my  footstool," 
if  "  the  gold  ring  and  goodly  apparel"  were  wanting  ; 
and  I  knew  that  sAe,  whose  delicate  foot  never  treads 
the  threshold  of  the  poor,  would  scruple  the  propriety 
if  not  the  reputation  of  her  who  does  it.  I  have  not 
*'  dipped  my  pen  in  gall"  towards  any  of  those  ;  I  have 
mentioned  no  names  where  they  could  be  readily  avoid- 
ed, and  then,  in  most  cases,  where  gratitude  required 
me  to  do  so. 

I  ask  no  reward — I  ask  no  sympathy.  This  sowing 
by  the  side  of  all  waters  has  been  abundantly  paid  by 
the  "  God  save  ye  kindly,"  and  the  "  Fear  not,  I  am 
with  you.'' 

Reader,  I  would  not  be  an  egotist — I  would  not 
boast ;  but  I  would  speak  of  that  Almighty  Arm  that 
sustained  me,  when,  on  a  penny's  worth  of  bread,  I 
have  walked  over  mountain  and  bog  for  twenty  and 
twenty-three  miles,  resting  upon  a  wall,  by  the  side  of 
a  lake,  or  upon  my  basket,  reading  a,  chapter  in  the 
sweet  Word  of  Life  to  some  listening  laborer.  And 
when  at  night-fall,  in  some  humble  lodging-house,  my 
potatoe  and  salt  were  taken,  my  feet  bathed,  then  could 
I  sing  of  mercy ;  then  could  I  say,  what  lack  I  yet  ^ 
I  never  had  one  fear  by  night  or  by  day,  nor  ever  cast 
a  longing,  lingering  look  behind,  to  my  once  loved  home 
across  the  ocean. 

Should  the  devout  reader  be  disappointed  at  the  want 
of  gravity  in  some  of  the  details,  he  can  only  be  told 
that  facts  are  delineated  as  they  occurred  ;  not  to  make 


vi  PREFACE. 

a  story  or  a  book,  but  to  present  to  the  reader  the  rus- 
tic as  he  is — the  seemly  and  the  unseemly,  the  beautiful 
and  the  deformed,  the  consistent  and  the  inconsistent. 
Whoever  mixes  awhile  with  the  heterogeneous  jumble 
of  Irish  sadness  and  Irish  mirth,  will  find  that  to  be 
grave  at  all  times, 

"  Exceeds  all  power  efface.'* 

One  great  difficulty  in  the  narration  has  been  the  pro- 
noun J.  Many  interesting  facts  have  been  partially 
illustrated,  and  some  wholly  suppressed,  because  this 
officious  letter  must  figure  so  prominently. 

Allow  me  to  say  to  every  Christian  and  every  phi- 
lanthropist, ^^  Turn  not  away  from  your  own  flesh." 
There  is  a  vast  amount  of  talent  in  its  native  rubbish 
in  the  mountains  of  Kerry  and  Connemara,  and  in  the 
bogs  of  Connaught.  Far  too  many  roses  have  already 
wasted  their  "  sweetness  on  the  desert  air" — too  many 
a  dark-haired  Kerry  girl  has  lavished  her  graces  on 
the  mountain  goat  and  sheep  she  has  tended,  without 
once  reading  the  story  of  the  Ruth  and  Rebecca  whom 
she,  in  occupation,  unknowingly  imitates.  I  do  not 
say,  Do  the  work  as  I  have  done,  but,  Do  it,  and  do 
it  better.  If  my  steps  will  not  serve  as  a  pattern,  my 
aberrations  may  as  a  warning.  Their  proprieties 
and  improprieties  are  before  you  ;  and  you  must  show 
me  a  "  more  excellent  way,"  or  I  shall  certainly  do  the 
same  thing  in  the  same  manner,  if  again  honored  with 
the  mission. 

It  was  never  my  intention  to  tax  the  Irish  public  with 
another  volume,  added  to  the  huge  pile  already  written 
on  Ireland.  It  was  my  design  to  go  silently  through 
among  the  poor,  and  tell  the  story  to  my  own  country- 


PREFACE. 


men ;  that  they  might  be  induced  to  labor  more  untir- 
ingly and  effectually  for  the  destitute  portion  of  this 
nation,  who  are  daily  landing  upon  their  shores.  But 
I  heard  the  sound  of  an  ^'  abundance  of  rain  ;''  the  cloud 
is  spreading  over  mountain  top  and  lowly  glen  ;  they 
that  "  for  want  and  famine  are  desolate,"  are  crying, 
"  give  us  food  to  eat,  we  loathe  this  light  manna  ;"  and 
from  many  a  pulpit  through  the  length  and  breadth  of 
the  land  I  hear,  "  Thrust  in  the  sickle,  for  the  harvest 
is  ripe."  The  treasury  is  open,  and  the  rich  men  are 
casting  in  their  gifts.  Accept  the  mite  of  the  widow ;  it 
is  small  indeed,  but  it  is  ^'  all  her  living,"  and  given 
heartily  and  cheerfully. 

The  reader  is  assured  that  nothing  has  been  added  to 
meet  the  state  of  the  famine  of  1846  and  1847.  Facts 
are  related  as  they  occurred  and  were  described  in  1844 
and  1845  ;  and  these  facts  then  indicated  that  an  explo- 
sion must  soon  take  place,  and  that  Ireland  must  be  turn- 
ed inside  out ;  so  that  all  the  world  might  see  that,  de- 
formed as  may  be  her  surface,  her  vitals  show  a  disease 
hereditary,  obstinate,  and  still  more  odious,  which  opi- 
ates or  ointments  cannot  cure.  '' 

Thanks  to  the  Hibernian  Bible  Society,  which  fur- 
nished me  with  the  Word  of  God  in  English  and  Irish, 
through  the  instrumentality  of  a  friend,  who  also  pro- 
cured for  me  tracts  and  other  suitable  books  for  distri- 
bution, on  my  last  tour  round  the  coast.  It  was  not  till 
four  excursions  had  been  made  in  the  interior,  that  my 
name  and  object  were  known.  They,  therefore,  are  not 
amenable  for  anything  I  have  said  or  done.  I  was  not  a 
"  chosen  vessel"  of  theirs.  God  reward  their  bounty, 
by  the  finding  "  after  many  days,"  of  this  bread  "  cast 


.4 


riii  PREFACE. 


upon   tlie  waters."      "  Thou  knowest  not  which  shall 
prosper,  either  this  or  that.'''' 

Thanks  to  all  those  who  have  spoken  kind  words  to 
the  stranger  ;  and  thanks  to  those  who  have  felt  called 
to  give  the  distant  look  or  the  cool  rebuke — the  former 
have  filled  my  heart  with  gratitude,  and  the  latter  have 
made  me  cling  closer  to  the  High  Arm  that  sustained 
me. 


ASENATH  NICHOLSON. 
Dublin,  June  10th,  1847. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  I. 

Departure  from  New  York— The  Author's  Parentage— Fellow  Passengers— Deatii 
on  Board — A  good  Captain — Death  of  a  Drunkard — Arrival  at  Liverpool — Voy- 
age to  Dublin  and  Arrival  at  Kingstown — A  chapter  of  Accidents — Difficulty  of 
obtaining  Lodgings — A  Morning  Walk — Visit  to  a  Roman  Catholic  Clergyman 
— The  Linen  Hall— The  North  Union  Poor  House— Letters  of  Introduction— 
A  Strange  Reception— Asylum  for  Unmarried  Ladies 17 


CHAPTER  II. 

Dialogues  with  the  Poor— An  English  Prophecy— Clontarf  Castle— Plan  for  the 
Relief  of  the  Destitute— A  Dying  Saint— Journey  to  Tullamore— Family  Af. 
fliction — Visits  to  the  Poor — The  Jail — The  Poorhouse — Irish  Beggars — A 
Scene  on  leaving  Tullamore — Return  to  Dublin — Extraordinary  Spectacle  on 
the  Road— Connaught  Laborers— The  Two  Convicts— A  Man's  Merit  cannot 
be  judged  by  his  Coat — Another  Visit  to  the  Dying — A  Military  Congrega- 
tion  35 


CHAPTER  HI. 

Visit  to  the  County  of  Wicklow — A  Tremendous  Coach-load — Horrors  of  the 
Journey — Safe  Arrival  and  kind  Reception — A  Happy  Family — Shelton  Abbey 
— Arklow— Beautiful  Scenery — Arklow  Fishermen — Domestic  Turmoil— Rath- 
drum— The  Vale  of  Avoca— Wicklow  Gold  Mines— A  Hungry  Man— An  Old 
War  Horse— A  Scriptural  Answer— Visit  to  a  Rectory 51 


CHAPTER  IV. 

The  Church  of  Kilbride— A  Methodist  Minister— Methodism  in  Ireland— Visit 
to  the  Rectory — Tetotaiism  unfashionable — Ameriean  Courtesy  to  Females 
not  universal  in  Ireland — The  Seven  Churches  of  Glendalough — Foolish  Le- 
gends connected  with  this  locality — Strange  Exhibition  of  Party  Spirit — Re- 

tTirn  to  Dublin— Lady  Harburton's  School -. 68 

1* 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  V. 

The  Second  Cabin  of  a  Canal-Boat— Much  ado  about  gixpeuee— A  Blind  Fiddler 
—A  Jaunting  Car  Jaunt— Arriral  at  Kilkenny— Cordial  Hospitality— Kilken- 
ny Beggars— Journey  to  Urlingford— A  Rural  Physician— Kide  in  a  Turf  Kish 
—The  Poor  Widow's  Welcome— A  Country  Dance— Departure  of  an  Emigrant 
—Lamentations  thereupon— Kind  Reception  in  an  intelligent  Roman  Catholic 
Family— An  Irish  Wake— A  Faction- Fair  at  Urlingford— Costume  of  the 
Peasantry— Visit  to  a  National  School 83 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Cabin  Life— Urlingford  Spa— Rebuff  from  a  Clergyman— New  Birmingham 
Colliery— Village  of  Grange— The  Police— A  Good  Methodist— Mr.  Barker  of 
Kilcooley— Yankee  Doodle— Residence  in  the  Neighborhood— Visit  to  Thurles 
—Ancient  Abbey  of  Holy  Cross— Journey  to  Clonmel,  Dungarvan,  and  Cappo- 
quin— Visit  to  the  Trappist  Monastery  of  Mount  Mellary 99 

CHAPTER  Vn. 

The  spirit  of  Caste  injurious  in  Ireland — Journey  to  Youghal — the  Blessed  Well 
of  St.  Dagan — Cabin  Hospitality — Uncourteous  Reception  by  Sir  Richard  Mua- 
grave- Rebuff  from  a  "great,  good  man"— Rejoicings  at  Lismore  for  O'Con- 
nell's  Liberation — A  Disaster — Brutality  of  an  Inn-keeper's  Son — Dungarvan 
— Two  silent  Quakeresses— Thoughts  on  Irish  Hospitality— Unsuccessful  Ap- 
plication to  Bianconi— Strong  National  Peculiarities  of  the  Irish— Uupopulari 
ty  of  Stepmothers— St.  Patrick's  Well— A  Poor  Old  Woman— A  Baptist  Min- 
ister—Happy Molly, 121 

CHAPTER  Vni. 

Nunnery  at  Thurles— Monks'  School— Dialogues  on  the  Road— Grateful  Re- 
flections—Nocturnal Alarm— Affecting  Incident— A  Gay  Consumptive— Part- 
ing from  True  Friends — A  Jolly  Company — Lamentation  on  Lying— Walk  to 
Roscrea— A  Weariful  Woman— A  (centenarian— Charity  Sermon— A  Christian 
Sister— A  Poor  House— Visit  to  a  Great  Brewer— A  Funeral— Father  Mathew 

—Remarkable  Vivacity  of  the  Irish— Self  Denial— Short  Commons A 

Suug  Protestant  Farmer's  Household— Cool  Recepti  on 138 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Birr— A  Miserable  Protestant  Lodging-house— A  Rich  Distiller's  Family  ruined 
by  Intemperance— A  Wealthy  Eccentric— Lord  Rosse's  Telescope,  and  Lord 
Rosse— A  Baptist  Minister— Courtesy  of  the  Children  of  the  Irish  Peasantry— 
Another  Unfortunate  Letter  of  Introduction — Walk  from  Ballinasloe  to  Lough 
rea— Miserable  Condition  of  the  Poor— A  returned  Emigrant— Fellow  Travel- 


CONTENTS. 


lers— An  Interesting  Trio— Reading  the  Bible— A  Scripture  Discussion— A 
Connaught  Catholic's  Experience  of  Church-going— Market-day  in  Loughrea— 
A  Shebeen  House— A  Pig's  Honesty— Remorseless  Staring— More  Bible  Reading 
—Scarcity  of  Female  Beauty  in  Galway— Staring  in  Galway  beyond  Descrip. 
tion— Ancient  Burial-ground— Visit  to  a  Presbyterian  Minister  who  had  just 
married  a  Rich  Wife— Laborers  standing  in  the  Market-place— Miserable 
Lodgings— Walk  to  Oranmore— The  name  of  "  American  Stranger"  a  Key  to 
the  People's  Heai-ta— A  Connemara  Girl 162 


CHAPTER  X. 

Walk  to  Loughrea- Thoughts  of  Home— A  New  Day— A  Fellow  Traveller 
—Cabin  Theology— Such  a  Bed  !— Eyre-Court— Hearty  Welcome  in  Ba- 
nagher— An  Anxious  Mother— A  Noble-hearted  Daughter— Incursionof  a 
Troop  of  Connaughtmen  into  an  Inn,  and  how  they  behaved  themselves — 
Visit  to  Mr.  S. — Rejection— Christian  kindness  of  Poor  Mary  and  her  Bro- 
ther  189 


CHAPTER  XL 

ovel  Interior  of  a  Cabin— No  Lodging  Place— Dreary  walk  through  mud  and 
rain  to  Roscrea— what  to  do  for  a  bed  ?— a  profitable  Sixpence— Start  joyfully, 
with  fine  weather,  and  threepence  in  my  purse— A  Lift  from  a  '''  Friend" — 
Money-letter  at  Urlingford— Reflections— Honesty  and  kindness  of  the  poor 
Irish  Peasantry — Parting  from  cordial  friends — Garrulous  fellow-traveller — 
Perilous  position— Return  to  Dublin,  and  kind  reception— Puzzling  Voyage  of 
Discovery 211 


CHAPTER  Xn. 

start  for  another  Tour— How  to  carry  a  heavy  Load  with  little  Trouble— A  for- 
midable Animal  in  the  Caravan— Wicklow— Visit  to  a  Poor  Cabin,  Half-a-crown 
earned  in  Three  Months— Attentive  Auditory— Wretch'Mi  condition  of  a  Sick 
Woman— The  bright  Old  Man  of  the  Mountain— Sabbath  Hymn,  and  the 
Company  collected  thereby— The  Scholar  with  his  Iliad— Visit  to  Wicklow 
Lighthouses— Wezford— Infant  School— A  tolerant  Catholic 222 


CHAPTER  Xni. 

Public  Buildings  in  Wexford— Unexpected  Delay— American  Family— A  Rare 
Lady— Appreciation  of  Teachers— Doctors  differ— Delightful  Family — Over- 
lading  of  Vehicles— Waterford—Clonmel— Car  Travelling  and  Companions  on 
the  Road— Lodgings  in  Cork, .,,, ,. , 235 


^^ 


xii  CONTENTS. 


CK^VPTER  XIV. 


Reception  from  Father  Mathew— The  Aged  Nun— Temperance  Tea  Party- 
Danger  of  becoming  a  Public  Character — One  Source  of  the  Reverence  paid  to 
the  Priest — Ursuline  Conrent  and  its  Elegancies— Sail  to  Cove— Beautiful 
Bay— Search  fur  Dr.  Power— The  Begging  Whine— Trip  to  Blarney— Racy 
Old  Priest—"  The  Blackguard  Salt  Herring''— Wonders  of  Blarney— Dr. 
Barter's  Hydropathic  Establishment— Our  Jolly  Priest  is  no  Tetotaler— 
Walk  to  Cove— Pleasant  Little  Maidens— Delightful  time  passed  in  Dr.  Pow- 
er's Family 243 

CHAPTER  XV. 

Cloyne— Difference  between  Upstarts  and  the  really  Wellbred— Practical  Proofs 
of  the  same— Wonderful  Natural  Caves — City  Jail  of  Cork — Humane  Governor 
— Prison  Discipline — Taking  leave  of  a  good  man — Character  of  Father 
Mathew — No  Monopoly  in  Orthodoxy — A  Night  in  Bandon — A  Peasant  Family 
employed,  a  rare  sight  in  Ireland— Arrival  at  the  miserable  town  of  Bantry.262 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

Exploration  in  Ban  try— Poverty,  Wretchedness,  and  Filth  of  the  Dwellings- 
Grand  Poorhouse  stauding  unoccupied— Wigwam  Row— My  attendant.  John 
— Employment  a  Novelty— Beautiful  Bay  of  Bantry— Glengariff— Bad  choice 
of  a  Lodging-house— A  Motley  Audience— No  Refuge  from  the  Staring — 
Morning  Levee— Lord  Bantry's  Cottage— Hospitality  at  the  Gatehouse— Call 
at  my  ill-chosen  Lodgings 275 


CHAPTER  XVn. 

Rambles  in  Glengariff— Household  Manure— Kind  Little  Guide— A  Gallant 
Offer— Splendid  Interior  of  the  Slated  House— A  Rare  and  Lofty  i/arder— 
Perilous  Transit — Wild  Natives — Dwelling  of  the  Three  Sisters — Spiriinal 
Fallow  Ground — Man  sometimes  behind  the  Lower  Animals — The  Author  de- 
livers a  Short  Sermon — Good-bye  to  Glengariff  and  the  Hospitable  Family  of 
the  Gatekeeper — Lakes  and  Mountains — Publican  versus  Priest — Ride  among 
Turf  Baskets— Early  Matrimony 288 


CHAPTER  XVni. 

Accident  at  Kenraare— Arrival  at  Ki Harney —Dread  of  Heretical  Books— Turk 
Waterfall — Funeral  Wail — America's  good  fame — Lions  of  the  Lake — "  Sweet 
Innisfallen"— White-robed  Procession— A  Third  Funeral— Dry  Bones— Bat- 


CONTENTS.  xiii 


tie  of  the  Ghosts— '•  Pair  of  Slippers"— Test  of  Orthodoxy— Staring  1  Star- 
ing  !— Another  Hospitable  Gate-house— Lord  Kenmare's  Park— Calm  Sabbath 
Morn— The  Little  Petitioner  for  the  "  Word  of  God"— A  Door  of  Access.. 302 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


Fellow  Travellers  on  the  Kerry  Mountains— Bay  of  Ross  by  Moonlight—"  Fine 
Stage-house" — Loss  of  Appetite — Feet-bathing  Extraordinary — Kerry  Trick 
— Glorious  iSIorning  on  the  Mountains,  in  spite  of  Hunger  and  Weariness — 
Cabin  Courtesy — Women  a  Beast  of  Burden — Lodging-house  at  Cahirciveen — 
A  Saucepan  an  Unattainable  Luxury— Religion  and  Filth— Guests  to  the 
Fair— Curly-headed  Biddy— Battle  of  the  Sticks— Sabbath  Services— Protes- 
tant Whiskey-Selling— Improved  Quarters 319 


CHAPTER  XX. 

An  Americanized  Irishman — Armed  Defence — Modern  Mermaids — Island  of  Va- 
lentia — Employment  and  a  good  Landlord — Conversible  Coast  Guard — A 
Child's  Mute  Appeal— Poverty  and  Low  Rents— Ridiculous  Old  Custom — 
Derrynaue— O'Connell's  Library— Cold  Comfort— Hospitable  Port  in  a  Storm 
— Lighthearted  Burdenbearers— Kerry  Dancing  and  KerryiKindness 336 


CHAPTER  XXI. 


Rough  Road — A  Kind  Oifer  declined— Lonely  and  Late — The  Funeral  Lament 
— Maurice  Raheley's  Lodging  House — Perfumed  Bedchamber— Sunrise  on  the 
Kerry  Mountains — Novel  Duet — Mountain  Air  or  City  Smoke? — Irish  Roada 
— A  Tetotaler  in  Bad  Company  Awful  Night— Sabbath  of  Rest  at  Killarney 
— Gap  of  Dunloe — Guide  Persecution — The  "  Crazy  Woman" — Where  to 
spend  the  night — Bright  Wood  Fire — Recollections  of  Childhood — Dinis  Island 
—Debt  of  Gratitude 349 


CHAPTER  XXII. 


Tralee— Public-house  honesty— A  '•  Gentleman  "—Mr.  Walpole's  Honorable 
Dealings — Christianity  at  Dingle — ''They  always  Stand" — One  Bright  Spot — 
The  Converts — Education  of  the  Lower  Order — Nancy  Brown's  Parlor — Co- 
quetry and  Gallantry — Peasant  Girl's  Poetry — Learned  Priest — Sybil  Head — 
"  Look  !  Look  ["—Fearless  Children— Disappointment  and  Vexation— Candid 
Hotel-keeper— Banks  of  the  Shannon 364 


CONTENTS, 


CHAPTER  XXIIL 


Sail  up  the  Shannon  to  Limerick — Poorhouse  Stirabout — Sleepless  Night  at 
Ennis — Town  without  Bread — Grievous  Ignorance — ^True  Delivery  of  my  one- 
armed  Charioteer— Basket  of  Bones— My  Carpet-bag  ransacked— Learned 
Schoolmaster— Exchange  of  Compliments— Red  Petticoats— Old  Pedlar  and 
his  daughter— Temple  of  Nature— The  back  of  the  Barracks— :Marble  Quarry 
— Completely  Watersoaked — Connemara  Hospitality — Bundles  of  Straw — Sab* 
bath  in  tho  Mountain  Cabiu 379 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

Clifden— Clifdeu  Castle— Irish  Holidays—Walk  to  Roundstone— Hardships  of 
Irish  Tenants — Three  Guides  pointing  three  different  ways — Potatoes  a  Curse 
upon  Ireland— A  Rough  and  Weary  road— Absence  of  Ti"ees— An  aged  Pil- 
grim—Good Wishes— A  Timely  Supply— Judicious  Advice— A  Kind  Curate — 
A  Connemara  School— Ascent  of  the  Diamond  Mountain,  and  Adventure  by 
the  Way— Tully— No  Bread  to  be  had  in  the  Town— The  Isle  of  Oma,  and  the 
Natives  thereof— Change  for  the  better  in  Connemara- Retura  to  Clifden.395 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

Misfortune  in  Clifden— Reverse  of  Fortune— An  Aged  Pilgrim —Eager  Listeners 
— Visit  to  a  Dying  Man — Glorious  Sunset — An  officious  Policeman — Lady 
Clare— Arrival  in  Galway— Obtrusiveness  of  the  Women— A  Sermon  on  Bap. 
tism — Journey  to  Westport — Introduction  to  Mr.  Poundon — A  devoted  Pres- 
byterian Minister— Sketch  of  a  Christian  :SIissionary,  such  as  Ireland  needs— 
Croagh  Patrick— Hazardous  Ascent  to  the  Mountain— Grand  Prospect  from 
the  Summit— Return  to  Westport— Doubts  Removed— Filial  Aflection— A 
Poor  Protestant 415 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

Sunday  Sermons— Newport— A  Relic  of  Better  Days— Arrival  at  Achill  Sound, 
and  Kind  Reception  from  Mr.  Savage  and  his  Family— Visit  to  the  Colony- 
Mr.  Nangle's  Protestant  Missionary  Settlement — Molly  Vesey's  Lodgings — 
Visit  to  the  Schools  at  the  Colony — Walk  to  the  Keem  Mountains — A  Cente- 
narian— The  Amethyst  Quarries— The  Author's  Acknowledgments  and  Cen- 
sures Explained— Mr.  Nangle's  Weekday  Lecture — Interview  with  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Nangle— Doctrinal  Conversion  is  not  all  that  is  due  to  the  Convert  from 


CONTENTS.  XV 


Popery— A  Reformed  Roman  Catholic  Priest— Renewed  Hospitality  at  the 
Sound— Another  Short  Visit  to  the  Colony — Newport— Intemperance  not 
Banished  from  the  County  of  Mayo — Westport — Castlebar — Sligo — A  Beau- 
tiful Gem— Hospitality  in  Death— Picturesque  Scenery  of  the  County  of  Sligo 
—Return  to  Dublin— The  Mendicity  Association 429 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

Mr.  Nangle's  Notice  in  the  Achill  Herald,  of  the  Author's  Visit  to  the  Settle- 
ment— Remarks  upon  this  Document  and  the  motives  which  probably  dic- 
tated it— Concluding  Observations  relative  to  the  objects  of  the  Writer's 
Tour  in  Ireland,  and  the  Reception  she  met  with  from  various  Classes  of  the 
Community 451 


IRELAND'S 
WELCOME  TO  THE  STRANGER. 


CHAPTER   I. 

Departure  from  New  York — The  Author's  Parentage — Fellow  Passengers — 
Death  on  Board— A  good  Captain — Death  of  a  Drunkard — Arrival  at  Liverpool 
— Voyage  to  Dublin  and  Arrival  at  Kingstown — A  Chapter  of  Accidents— DifiBL- 
culty  of  obtaining  Lodgings — A  Morning  Walk — Visit  to  a  Konian  Catholio 
Clergyman — The  Linen  Hall — The  North  Union  Poor  House — Letters  of  In- 
troduction—A Strange  Keception— Asylum  for  Unmarried  Ladies. 

It  was  in  tlie  spring  of  1844,  May  16tli,  that  I  stood 
upon  the  deck  of  the  ship  Brooklyn,  and  saw  the  last 
spire  of  New  York  recede  in  the  distance.  It  was  the 
home  of  my  childhood — the  land  where  hopes  and  dis- 
appointments had  ebbed  and  flowed  ;  where  I  had  looked 
out  through  smiles  and  tears,  till  the  last  earthly  tie  was 
severed  ;  and  where  the  last  tear  was  dried  on  the  graves 
of  those  most  loved.  I  had  no  more  to  shed.  It  was 
with  a  stoical  indifference  I  heard  the  last  farewell,  and 
took  the  last  grasp  of  the  hand  of  him  who  asked, 
"  When  shall  we  look  for  you  home  P^  and  then  I  shut 
myself  into  the  narrow  cabin,  which  was  to  be  my  parlor 
and  bed-room  during  the  voyage,  heeding  neither  wind, 
nor  wave,  nor  monster  of  the  deep.  It  was  not  the  rich, 
the  honored,  or  the  happy  I  was  hoping  to  meet ;  it  was 
not  their  salutations  or  presents  I  was  going  to  seek  for. 
It  was  the  poor  and  the  outcast.  I  was  about  to  visit 
those  who  in  dens  and  caves  of  the  earth,  were  "  for- 


18  THE  VOYAGE.  [chap.  i. 

gotten  by  their  neidibors,"  and  wlio  heard  no  kinder 
voices  than  the  whistling  of  the  winds,  or  the  screech- 
ing of  some  desolate  owl  amono;  the  mountains  and*crao;s 
where  they  had  made  their  habitations. 

I  was  alone.  Not  a  soul  in  the  ship  but  the  captain 
knew  my  name,  or  understood  my  object,  and  leaving 
the  command  of  the  vessel  to  him,  and  the  working  of 
the  ropes  to  the  sailors,  I  betook  myself  to  the  opening  of 
my  parcels,  to  ascertain  what  necessary  supplies  they 
contained  for  mind  and  body  in  a  voyage  like  this. 

"  M}"-  boast  is  not  that  I  deduce  my  birth, 
From  loins  enthroned,  and  rulers  of  the  earth; 
But  higher  far  my  proud  pretensions  rise, 
The  child  of  parents  passed  into  the  skies." 

My  home  education  was  of  the  most  uncompromising 
kind.  My  parents  were  descended  from  the  puritanical 
stock;  they  taught  me  that  goodness  alone  was  great- 
ness ;  that,  in  order  rightly  to  estimate  the  worth  of  a 
man,  his  gold  watch  and  equipage,  his  title  and  station, 
must  be  deducted  ;  that  a  conformity  to  the  customs 
of  the  world,  when  they  clashed  with  the  sound  princi- 
ples of  the  gospel,  or  the  strictest  rules  of  morality,  was 
not  only  a  sin,  but  meanness  of  spirit.  My  father  had 
read  little  and  thought  much  ;  and  though  somewhat 
orthodox,  yet  he  cared  not  whether  his  neighbor  prayed 
kneeling  or  standing,  if  he  prayed  in  the  true  spirit,  or 
whether  the  psalm  were  in  a  minor  or  a  major  key,  or 
performed  in  common  or  triple  time,  if  sung,  making 
melody  in  the  heart  to  God.  He  hung  no  quakers,  nor 
put  any  men  in  a  corner  of  the  church  because  they 
had  a  colored  skin.  He  rebuked  sin  in  high  places  with 
fearlessness,  and  forgave  all  personal  injuries  before  for- 
giveness was  asked. 

My  mother  remembered  the  poor,  and  entertained 
strangers  ;  hated  oppression,  scorned  a  mean  act,  and 
dealt  justly  by  all.  She  taught  me  that  in  order  to 
be  healthy,  I  must  rise  early,  and  if  I  desired  to  take 
an  honest  breakfast  with  a  proper  relish,  I  must  earn 
before  eating  it ;     that  to  find  friends,  I  must   show 


CHAP.  I.]  THE  VOYAGE.  19 

myself  friendly  ;  that  to  live  peaceably,  I  must  allow 
my  neighbors  to  go  out  and  in,  eat,  drink,  and  dress 
when  and  how  they  liked  ;  always  avoiding  putting 
my  head  into  a  hornets'  nest,  if  I  would  not  be  stung. 
*'  And  when  you  are  sent  from  home,"  she  emphatical- 
ly said,  "  conduct  yourself  well,  and  your  good  name 
will  take  care  of  itself ;  always  remembering  that  a 
character  which  requires  lawyers  and  doctors,  ministers 
and  elders,  to  look  after  it  is  not  worth  a  groat."  With 
these  principles  in  my  head,  if  not  in  my  heart,  I  was 
sent  into  the  world,  to  make  my  way,  through  good  and 
through  evil  report,  as  best  I  could.  I  looked  out  upon 
the  seas  ;  the  vessel  was  well  under  weigh,  and  the  dizzy 
passengers  had  already  begun  to  exclaim,  "  O  dear  ! 
I  am  dreadfully  sick." 

My  chum  now  entered  ;  we  were  shut  in —  and,  like 
or  dislike,  there  was  no  alternative ;  snugly  packed 
as  we  were,  there  was  no  escape,  and  we  immediately 
set  ourselves  about,  as  Eve's  daughters  are  wont  to 
do,  ascertaining  each  other's  pedigree,  object,  andjdes- 
tination. 

I  found  her  to  be  an  Irish  lady,  born  and  bred  in  the 
city  of  Dublin,  but  she  had  passed  five  years  in  the  city 
of  New  York,  to  which  she  had  become  greatly  attach- 
ed. She  had  left  her  husband  and  three  children  to 
go.  on  business  to  Ireland,  and  though  she  cast  many  a 
"  longing,  lingering  look  "  back  to  them,  yet  she  never 
forgot  that  she  must  do  good  unto  all  when  opportunity 
presented,  and  she  never  neglected  the  performance  of 
that  duty,  when  necessity  required  it.  Her  tall  and 
noble  figure,  her  high  open  forehead,  united  with  an 
unpretending  though  dignified  manner,  and  the  bene- 
volence of  her  heart,  which  beamed  in  her  placid  eye, 
made  her  to  me  an  object  not  only  of  interest,  but  of 
warm  attachment.  Often  when  she  returned  to  the 
berth  from  some  errand  of  kindness  among  the  sick  and 
distressed  have  I  said  in  my  heart,  "  Who  would  not 
love  such  an  augel  of  mercy  .'"  Thus  was  the  begin- 
ning of  my  journey  prosperous,  and  all  anxiety  for  the 
:-^morrow  was  banished  by  the  blessings  of  to-day. 


**^ 


20  THE  VOYAGE.  [chap.  i. 

Our  cabin  companions  consisted  of  tlie  widow  of  »a ' 
clergyman,  with  her  son  and  daughter,  who  were  return- 
ing from  New  York  to  England,  their  native  country ; 
an  Irishman,  who  had  spent  the  last  twenty-five  years  in 
America,  a  naval  officer,  an  editor  from  the  United 
States  (a  genuine  American),  and  the  young  Irish  wife 
of  the  mate,  on  a  visit  to  ^'  her  people."  These,  with 
one  exception,  gave  more  cause  of  praise  than  blame, 
and  made  me  quite  willing  to  balance  accounts  with 
them  all  when  we  parted. 

All  was  quiet  after  the  first  wrenchings  were  past. 
On  the  third  morning  after  our  departure,  the  captain 
came  up  from  the  steerage,  saying,  "  We  have  had  a 
death  on  board."  The  wife  of  a  Scotchman  occupied 
the  same  berth  with  her  son,  a  boy  of  thirteen.  She 
went  to  bed  the  preceding  evening  in  as  good  health  as 
when  she  came  on  board,  and  she  slept  the  sleep  of 
death  in  the  night.  Her  husband  and  another  son  of 
twenty  were  in  a  berth  above  them,  and  knew  nothing 
of  the  circumstance  till  the  young  boy  awoke,  and  found 
his  mother  cold  and  stiff  by  his  side. 

On  descending  the  steerage  stairs,  I  saw  the  accom- 
paniments of  death  as  they  never  had  been  presented 
to  my  view  before.  The  rough  hands  of  the  sailors 
were  wrapping  the  slender  body  in  hempen  cloth,  and 
fitting  iron  weights  to  the  feet,  to  cause  it  to  sink.  The 
father  and  the  eldest  son  looked  silently,  if  not  coldly 
on;  whilst  the  younger  boy,  in  a  flood  of  grief,  was 
interrupted  occasionally  by  the  stern  command  of  his 
father,  to  ^'  hold  his  tongue." 

The  body  was  placed  on  deck,  and  at  twelve  the 
captain  assembled  the  crew,  read  some  passages  of 
Scripture,  appropriate  for  the  burial  of  the  dead,  prayed 
(for  he  was  a  man  of  prayer),  and  four  sailors  raised  the 
board  containing  the  body  upon  the  railing  of  the  deck, 
turning  away  their  faces  ;  one  dismal  plunge  was  heard ; 
the  parted  wave  closed  again,  and  all  was  hushed,  save 
the  suppressed  sobs  of  the  young  son.  The  captain 
whispered,  "  the  husband  was  not  kind,"  and  each 
turned  to  his  monotony  again. 


CHAP.  I.]  THE  VOYAGE.  21 

The  voyage  went  quietly  on.  The  captain  assembled 
the  crew  as  often  as  possible,  for  prayer  and  praise, 
and  gave  good  proof  that  a  ship  may  be  a  temple  of 
worship,  and  that  sailors  may  be  treated  as  men,  and 
be  men  still.  There  was  no  scolding,  no  flogging,  and 
but  little  swearing,  to  make  us  feel  as  if  we  were  on 
boad  a  slave-ship  or  a  man-of-war. 

We  had  proceeded  some  eight  days,  when  the  widow's 
son,  who  had  been  in  the  navy,  and  had  lost  his  health 
by  his  excesses,  gave  sad  proof  that 

"  A  soldier's  arms, 
Through  the  vanity  and.  brainless  rage 
Of  those  that  bear  them,  in  whatever  cause, 
Seem  most  at  variance  with  all  moral  good." 

He  was,  at  all  hours  of  the  night,  either  at  the  door 
of  his  mother  and  sister,  demanding  gin,  or  roving 
about  the  cabin  with  reddened  eyes,  declaring  that  his 
frenzied  brain  would  make  him  mad.  Sometimes  he 
appeared  suddenly  in  our  midst,  almost  in  a  state  of 
nudity,  on  deck,  or  at  table ;  till,  like  a  maniac  as  he 
was,  nothing  but  coercion  could  restrain  him,  and  he 
died  on  a  bright  Sabbath  morning  while  we  were  at 
breakfast ;  and  before  the  sun  had  gone  down  upon  the 
ship,  the  unfortunate  young  man  was  plunged  beneath 
the  waves.  The  mother  and  sister  sat  at  a  distance, 
while  the  prayer  and  burial  went  on,  tearlessly  viewing 
the  last  office  for  the  dead,  when,  turning  away,  a  low 
murmur  from  the  mother  was  heard,  "  Ah  !  I  could  not 
save  him." 

Twenty-one  days  took  us  into  the  Channel,  and  seven 
more  of  calm  set  our  feet  upon  the  dock  at  Liverpool, 
at  a  late  hour  of  the  night.  The  next  took  us  to  the 
custom-house,  and  there,  to  my  happy  disappointment, 
was  demanded  no  duty,  the  officer  kindly  telling  me 
that,  as  my  books  were  for  gratuitous  distribution  in 
Ireland,  he  regretted  I  had  not  a  thousand  more,  and 
that  he  should  make  no  charges.  A  tea-cup  full  of 
oatmeal  stirabout  and  milk,  a  night's  lodging  in  a  dwell- 
ing contiguous  to  the  hotel  (for  the  talkative  landlady 


22  KINGSTOWN.  [chap.  i. 

had  her  house  full)  made  a  charge  of  six  English  shil- 
lings, besides  a  sixpence  each  to  two  servants,  neither 
of  whom  had  I  seen  till  I  stood  at  the  door  to  depart. 

At  two  o'clock  I  took  the  packet  for  Ireland ;  and 
when  I  stood  upon  the  plank  which  was  to  conduct  me 
on  deck,  and  looked  upon  the  loved  face  of  her  who 
had  been  my  never- tiring  companion  on  the  voyage,  I 
longed  that  I  might  meet  in  a  land  of  strangers  a  heart 
like  hers.  She  returned  to  go  to  Cork,  and  we  have 
never  met  since. 

"  We  shall  remember  this  voyage,"  was  the  last  sen- 
tence from  her  lips  that  fell  on  my  ear. 

"  You  have  parted  with  a  friend,"  said  a  solitary 
woman,  "  and  are  you  a  stranger  ?" 

This  was  a  welcome  sound,  and  a  few  moments'  con- 
versation told  me  that  the  law  of  kindness  had  not  died 
on  the  lips  of  her  who  had  just  left  me. 

A  tempestuous  night  made  the  sea- sick  inmates  of 
the  crowded  cabin  wish  for  the  day,  for  there  was  not 
a  comfort  or  convenience  to  be  had  ;  and  when  the 
bright  morning  dawned,  it  brought  the  unpleasant  in- 
telligence that  we  should  not  see  Dublin  till  the  tide 
should  come  in,  which  would  be  five  in  the  evening. 
But  we  had  neared  the  bay,  and  were  in  sight  of  the 
enchanting  harbor,  granite  buildings,  and  green  sloping 
hills  of  Kingstown. 

"I  have  travelled  much,"  said  an  intelligent  gentle- 
man, "but  have  never  found  anything  surpassing  the 
beauty  of  the  bay  of  Dublin  and  the  Cove  of  Cork." 
This  bay  was  in  my  eye  ;  and  I  was  in  it.  Yes  !  the 
sea  was  behind  me,  and  the  fair  Emerald  Isle,  with  the 
motley  assemblage  of  beautiful  and  painful  objects,  was 
before  me.  I  gave  myself  to  rummaging  the  scanty 
knowledge  I  had  of  Ireland,  to  ascertain  whether  I  knew 
anything  tolerable  of  its  true  candition  and  character, — 
and  what  did  I  know  ? 

I  knew  that  between  the  parallels  of  51  and  55  of 
north  latitude  there  was  a  little  green  spot  in  the  ocean, 
defended  from  its  surging  waves  by  bold  defying  rocks  ; 
that    over   this   spot    are   sprinkled  mountains,  where 


CHAP.  I.]  KINGSTOWN.  23 

sparkles  the  diamond  and  where  sleeps  the  precious 
stone ;  glens,  where  the  rich  foliage  and  the  plea- 
sant flower,  and  where  the  morning  song  of  the  bird 
is  blending  with  the  playful  rill ;  that  through  its  val- 
leys and  hill  sides  were  imbedded  the  gladdening  fuel 
and  the  rich  mine  ;  that  over  its  lawns  and  wooded 
parks  were  skipping  the  light-footed  fawn  and  bound- 
ing deer  ;  that  in  its  fat  pastures  were  grazing  the 
proud  steed  and  the  noble  ox ;  that  on  its  heathy 
mountain  slopes  the  nimble  goat  and  the  more  timid 
sheep  find  their  food,  I  knew  that  proud  castles  and 
monasteries,  palaces  and  towers,  tell  to  the  passer-by 
that  here  kings  and  chieftains  struggled  for  dominion, 
and  priests  and  prelates  contended  for  religion;  and 
that  the  towering  steeple  and  the  more  lowly  cross 
still  say  that  the  instinct  of  worship  yet  lives — that 
here  the  incense  of  prayer  and  the  song  of  praise 
continue  to  go  up.  I  knew  that  no  venomous  serpent 
was  lying  in  the  path  of  the  weary  traveller,  and  that 
the  purest  breezes  of  heaven  were  wafted  from  moun- 
tain-top to  lowly  valley,  giving  health  and  vigor  to  the 
life-blood,  and  causing  the  "  inhabitants  of  the  rock 
to  sing." 

And  1  had  been  told,  that  over  this  fair  landscape 
hangs  a  dark  curtain  of  desolation  and  death  ;  that  the 
harp  of  Erin  lies  untouched,  save  by  the  finger  of 
sorrow,  to  tell  what  music  was  once  in  her  strings  ;  that 
the  pipe  and  the  dance  are  only  aroused  like  the  last 
brightening  of  the  flickering  lamp,  as  it  ceases  for  ever  ; 
that  the  tear  is  on  her  cheek — she  sits  desolate,  and  no 
good  Samaritan  passes  that  way,  to  pour  in  the  oil  and 
wine  of  consolation.  Lover  and  friend  are  put  far  from 
her,  and  she  is  a  hissing  and  bye-word  to  those  who 
should  lift  her  up  ;  and  she  has  long  reaped  down  the 
fields  of  the  rich,  while  she  has  tasted  none  of  their 
"  pleasant  bread.''  Small  as  this  little  fund  of  know- 
ledge might  be,  I  almost  regretted  that  I  had  heard  the 
tale  of  her  woes,  lest  a  morbid  sympathy  should  dim 
the  true  light,  and  lead  me  to  stumble,  if  not  wholly  to 
wander  from  the  right  path. 


24  KINGSTOWN.  [chap.  i. 

A  lady  from  Liverpool,  whose  sable  weeds  and  care- 
worn cheeks  told  that  she  was  a  child  of  sorrow,  pro- 
posed that,  as  we  were  alone,  and  must  pass  the  day 
together,  we  might  go  on  shore,  and  visit  the  monument 
erected  to  King  George.  We  had  read  the  names  of 
the  lords  and  earls  who  erected  it,  examined  the  prints 
of  the  shoes  cut  in  marble  at  the  foot,  where  his  king- 
ship stood  when  he  visited  it,  and  had  seated  ourselves 
upon  a  block  of  marble,  and  there  concluded  to  go  into 
the  railroad  office,  purchase  tickets  for  Dublin,  and 
leave  our  luggage  to  follow  us  in  the  packet.  Putting 
my  hand  into  my  pocket  to  get  a  shilling  for  my 
ticket,  I  missed  my  pocket-book  ;  this  pocket-book  con- 
tained all  valuables  of  purse  and  scrip,  and  not  a  far- 
thing had  I  out  of  it.  My  character,  as  far  as  letters 
of  introduction  might  go,  had  gone  to  the  winds ;  but 
as  I  expected  to  pay  no  lodging  or  travelling  fees  by  it, 
the  money  was  the  great  concern.  This  was  a  sad  land- 
ing indeed  on  a  foreign  shore,  where  I  had  already  seen 
so  many  asking  alms,  that  I  could  not  hope  much  for 
my  share.  A  "horror  of  darkness"  came  over  me, 
and  while  I  stood  petrified,  the  good  woman  set  off 
at  full  speed  towards  the  block  of  granite  where  we  had 
been  sitting.  I  moped  at  a  distance,  muttering,  "  It 
will  do  no  good,"  while  all  the  sage  counsels  given  me 
in  New  York,  of  being  among  strangers,  unprotected, 
alone,  unknown,  and  uncared  for,  like  spectres  stood 
in  array.  My  kind  helper  reached  the  fatal  block, 
but  no  pocket-book  was  there.  "  There  I  told  you 
so."  "  What  will  you  do  .^"  Then  for  a  few  moments 
we  mingled  our  sorrows ;  she  had  tasted  deeply  of 
worldly  afflictions,  and  could  only  say,  "  If  you  have 
no  money,  you  have  no  friends."  At  that  moment  an 
aged  pilgrim,  in  ragged  garb,  called  from  a  distance, 
"  Have  you  lost  anything  .^"  "  Yes,  a  pocket-book." 
"  What  color.?"  "Dark  red."  "  I  have  found  one, 
but  have  not  opened  it." 

Did  not  I  love  the  old  man  ?  and  when  I  gladly  put 
a  bit  into  his  hand,  was  I  not  thrice  thankful  that  I 
had  lost  it,  because  it  put  a  piece  of  bread  into  the 
mouth  of  an  honest  child  of  want,  and  thankful  that  I 


CHAP.  I.]  DUBLIN.  25 

had  found  it  for  my  own  benefit ;  and  then  the  find- 
ing it  had  given  so  early  a  proof  of  Irish  honesty  ; 
for  one  of  the  dreadful  predictions  of  my  fate  was,  that 
if  I  was  not  murdered  outright,  I  should  certainly  be 
robbed. 

We  heard  the  car,  and  no  time  must  be  lost.  On 
examination,  I  found  that  in  pursuit  of  my  pocket- 
book,  I  had  lost  my  ticket  ;  ran  into  the  office,  paid 
for  another,  and  lost  my  keys.  After  considerable 
bustle  I  found  them,  and  then  commenced  regulating 
government  afi*airs  a  little,  because  the  railway  clerk 
required  a  second  shilling  for  a  second  ticket.  "  I  am 
obliged  to  do  so,  madam — another  person  might  find 
it,  and  get  the  ride  ;  you  have  found  your  pocket-book, 
and  should  be  contented."  I  saw  my  mistake,  and 
determined  to  learn  better  manners  in  future. 

Dublin  was  the  next  encounter,  and  a  lodging-place 
the  first  concern.  A  gentleman  in  Liverpool  had  given 
me  the  name  of  a  respectable  lady,  but  her  rooms  were 
occupied.  But  learning  that  I  was  an  American 
stranger,  and  recommended  by  a  friend,  she  managed 
so  as  to  deposit  me  comfortably  till  I  could  do  better. 
For  a  moment  all  was  as  I  wished  ;  the  modest  unpre- 
tending looks  of  the  lady,  and  the  unostentatious  ap- 
pearance of  comfort,  promised  a  pleasant  resting-place 
from  the  storms  I  had  just  left. 

Not  so.  "  It  is  the  little  foxes  that  spoil  the  vines." 
Trifles  are  the  busy  ants  that  are  constantly  building 
our  molehills  of  evil  and  good,  showing  what  and  how 
we  are  in  the  true  light.  They  are  the  polar-star  that 
guides  us,  and  the  thermometer  by  which  the  daily 
temperature  may  be  well  ascertained. 

The  brother,  who  was  master  of  the  house,  came  in 
to  his  dinner,  and  set  all  adrift.  ^'  She  must  go  to  a 
hotel ;  if  she  has  come  to  visit  Ireland,  she  will  want 
such  attendance  as  we  cannot  give."  In  vain  the  kind 
sister  expostulated,  begging  him  to  read  my  good 
letters  of  introduction.  "  She  must  go  to  a  hotel,"  was 
the  alpha  and  omega  ;  and  when  the  good  woman  with 
a  sorrowful  face  brought  the  message,  my  disappoint- 
2 


DUBLIN.  [chap.  I. 


ment  placed  the  whole  account  to  the  uncomproniismg 
disposition  of  unfeeling  old  bachelors. 

The  ^'  attendance  I  should  want"  was  afterwards 
ludicrously  illustrated,  oftentimes,  in  Connaught  and  the 
wild  mountains  of  the  coast ;  when  I  found  myself 
sitting  in  company  with  a  ragged  family,  around  a 
basket  of  potatoes,  taking  the  "  lumper"  from  my  hand. 

"  What  will  you  do  ?  will  you  step  across  the  way, 
where  lodgers  are  accommodated,  and  take  my  name  ?" 
I  do  so,  and  here  found  single  blessedness  exemplified 
in  two  maiden  ladies  ;  and  when  the  stern  unyielding 
negative  was  given, ''  Surely,"  thought  I,  "  Dublin  must 
be  the  deposit  where  all  haters  of  matrimony  resort,  to 
vent  their  spleen  against  '  upstart  married  ladies,'  and 
*  saucy  dirty  urchins.'  " 

Night  was  approaching,  ray  luggage  a  mile  and  a  half 
from  me,  and  it  was  Saturday  ;  the  kind  stranger,  who 
sympathized  so  deeply  at  the  misfortune  of  the  pocket- 
book,  had  called  to  accompany  me  to  the  packet,  with  a 
car  to  procure  our  luggage,  but  I  had  no  home  but  the 
street,  and  where  could  1  take  it  ? 

A  servant  that  moment  entered  and  said,  '^  A  house 
not  far  distant  can  give  you  a  room."  I  went,  and  was 
received  ;  the  happy  kind  woman  was  thus  opportunely 
relieved  from  the  dread  of  "  offending  God,"  by  dis- 
pleasing her  brother. 

The  kind  lady  procured  a  car,  and  acQompanied  me 
to  the  packet,  much  fearing  that  I  should  doubt  Irish 
hospitality,  though  she  had  fed  me  when  I  first  entered 
the  house.  She  then  returned  to  the  door  of  my  new 
lodgings,  to  see  that  all  was  safe,  and  bade  me  a  kind 
good  night. 

My  room  was  a  back  parlor  on  the  first  floor,  rather 
gloomy  ;  all  the  arrangements  were  different  from  my 
own  home,  and  it  was  the  first  night  in  Ireland.  My 
head  was  pillowed,  but  my  brain  took  liberties  which 
it  never  has  ventured  upon  since ;  for  when  it  had 
thrown  off  the  scum  occasioned  by  the  first  day's  fer- 
mentation, the  pool  became  quiescent. 

Monday. — The  lady  who  first  entertained  me  went 


CHAP.  I.]  DUBLIN.  27 

out  to  show  me  a  little  of  the  city,  and  Cole  River 
View,  where  my  letter  of  introduction  was  to  be  de- 
livered. This  letter  of  introduction,  by  the  way,  was 
no  small  item  in  the  account,  for  I  was  assured  by  the 
Irish  gentlewoman  in  New  York  who  presented  it, 
that  it  would  introduce  me  to  all  the  Protestants  in 
Dublin  of  the  better  class ;  but  as  the  poor  and  the 
peasantry  were  the  objects  of  my  visit  to  the  country, 
I  commenced  my  acquaintance  that  morning  by  saluting 
as  many  of  these  as  I  could  on  the  way. 

The  rich  scenery,  heightened  by  a  pleasant  sun, 
threw  around  a  lustre  upon  all  about  me,  which  kept 
my  imagination  awake,  diffusing  a  cheerfulness  to  the 
poor  laborer,  which  made  his  burden  more  light  ;  for 
in  Ireland  it  may  emphatically  be  said,  '^  a  merry  heart 
doeth  good  like  a  medicine" — the  merry  burst  of  wit 
following  the  hasty  brush  of  the  tear  from  the  eye,  is 
always  a  happy  transition,  not  only  to  him  who  sheds 
that  tear,  but  to  the  sympathizing  looker-on.  God, 
who  knew  what  Ireland  would  suffer,  made  it  so,  and 
God  does  all  things  well. 

We  reached  the  tasty  cottage  to  which  my  letter  was 
directed,  but  the  person  who  should  break  the  seal  was 
absent,  and  we  were  invited  to  call  again. 

The  cabins  were  my  centre  of  attraction,  as  I  had 
never  before  seen  a  thatched  roof,  an  earthen  floor,  or  the 
manner  of  cabin  house-keeping.  I  saw  new  things, 
and  if  I  found  nothing  to  imitate,  I  always  found  some- 
thing to  admire.  The  first  we  entered  was  cleanly  ; 
the  dishes  tastefully  arranged  upon  a  white  cupboard, 
and  a  family  of  young  girls  in  cleanly  garb.  And  had  ^ 
I  visited  no  other,  1  might  have  written  a  romantic 
tale  on  the  bright  pots  and  buckets  of  the  Irish  pea- 
santry. They  were  employed  in  a  sail-cloth  factory. 
The  next  we  saw  was  a  pitiful  reverse.  A  slender, 
discouraged-looking  man  was  sitting  on  a  stool  in  one 
corner  ;  a  sickly-looking  mother,  with  four  ragged 
children,  in  another  ;  all  waiting  the  boil'ng  of  a  pot 
of  potatoes,    which   certainly   fell   short  of  the   three 


28  DUBLIN.  [CHAP.  i. 

pounds  and  a  half  allowed  to  each  man  in  the  poor- 
house. 

"  Do  your  children  go  to  school,  sir  ?" 

"  No,  ma'am ;  we  could  not  get  them  clothes  to  be 
dacent  on  the  street.  I  work  at  blaichin,'  ma'am  :  I 
have  eight  shillings  a  week,  and  pay  five  pounds  for  the 
cabin,  without  a  fut  of  land." 

I  deducted  the  five  pounds  from  the  twenty  pounds 
sixteen  shillings,  leaving  him  fifteen  pounds  sixteen 
shillings  to  feed,  clothe,  and  warm  six  beings ;  and  in 
fact  I  could  not  find  many  sovereigns  left  for  their 
education.  This  being  my  first  arithmetical  calcula- 
tion on  Irish  labor  and  economy,  I  was  at  a  loss  to 
understand  how  the  thing  could  be  possible  ;  but  having 
since  seen  many  things  stranger  than  these,  I  am  pre- 
pared to  believe  in  what  once  would  have  appeared  a 
little  short  of  miraculous. 

Wednesday. — I  was  requested  to  call  on  Dr.  M.  Our 
interview  ended  in  a  favorable  manner,  for  though  he 
gave  me  but  two  fingers,  and  a  long  formal  bow,  instead 
of  the  hearty  Irish  grasp  of  the  hand,  yet  he  became 
talkative  when  I  told  him  my  object,  and  said  I  had 
chosen  the  only  way  to  come  at  the  truth  ;  for  Ireland 
had  been  wholly  misrepresented  by  writers  who  had 
only  looked  at  the  surface  of  things.  He  took  out  his 
map,  showed  me  the  best  route  through  the  country, 
gave  me  some  valuable  information  respecting  the  con- 
dition of  the  peasantry,  and  requested  me  to  keep  in 
view  the  condition  of  servants,  as  far  as  I  could  do  so 
without  prying  interference.  He  recommended  me  to 
notice  their  sleeping  apartments,  and  to  see  how  many 
I  should  find  wholesome  and  comfortable  for  human 
beings  to  lodge  in  through  the  night. 

To  my  sorrow,  in  going  through  the  south  of  Ireland, 
I  found  his  words  verified  not  only  in  the  case  of  ser- 
vants' lodging,  but  their  food  ;  eating  their  potatoes 
morning  and  night,  when  the  master  and  mistress  were 
abundantly  blessed  with  the  good  things  of  this  life. 

Thursday. — I  called  on  Mr.  Fleming,  a  temperance 


CHAP.  I.]  DUBLIN.  29 

man  J  who  asked  me,  "  Have  you  really  come  to  see  the 
poor  of  Ireland,  and  do  you  expect  or  want  any  great 
dinners  got  up  for  you  ?"  Assuring  him  that  I  neither 
wanted  great  dinners,  nor  great  people  to  flatter  me, 
he  answered,  "Be  assured  if  you  have  come  to 
see  the  poor,  the  rich  will  have  nothing  to  say  to 
you ;  and  don't  be  disappointed  if  they  not  only  treat 
you  with  neglect,  but  say  many  wrong  things  about 
you." 

Friday. — Visited  the  annual  exhibition  of  the  arts  ; 
and  saw  some  specimens  of  taste  beyond  what  I  had 
anticipated.  The  bog  oak  of  Ireland  (which  is  found 
buried  in  the  earth)  when  polished,  and  made  into 
many  articles  of  taste,  is  a  beautiful  specimen  not  only 
of  the  skill  of  the  mechanic,  but  of  the  richness  of  this 
neglected  island  in  its  bowels  as  well  as  upon  its  sur- 
face. Here  were  chairs,  tables,  and  small  fancy 
articles  of  the  most  exquisite  beauty,  which  were  made 
from  this  wood.  Among  its  highest  ornaments  was  a 
standing  "  Father  Mathew  administering  the  pledge  to 
a  peasant,"  both  as  large  as  life ;  the  peasant  kneeling. 
The  complacent  look  of  the  kind  apostle  of  temperance 
is  a  happy  illustration  of  the  "  peace  and  good  will  to 
men,"  which  mark  the  footsteps  of  this  unassuming 
man,  wherever  they  can  be  traced. 

Saturday. — Was  introduced  into  the  Linen  Hall ; 
here  is  a  sad  memento  of  Ireland's  blighted  prospects 
of  her  once  proud  manufacture  of  this  useful  article. 
The  desolated  Hall,  with  its  appendages,  which  once 
included  two  acres  of  ground,  now  and  then  in  some 
dusty  room  shows  a  sack  or  two  of  linen,  and  in  some 
dark  hall  a  few  piles  of  linsey-woolsey.  Here  was  the 
son  of  an  old  inheritor  of  some  of  these  rooms,  when, 
in  its  glory,  its  coffee  room  was  thronged  with  men  of 
business,  now  standing  almost  alone  in  its  midst,  sell- 
ing linen,  to  tell  the  inquirer  what  it  once  was. 

My  next  visit  was  to  the  Poor  House,  for  I  had 
heard  much  of  their  well-managed  laws  from  all  but 
beggars,  who  gave  them  no  share  in  their  affections. 
The   house   contained    one   thousand    seven  hundred 


30  DUBLIN.  [chap.  i. 

persons  of  all  ages,  and  all  who  were  able  were  at  work 
or  in  school.  The  rooms  were  well  ventilated,  and 
the  floors  daily  washed.  The  aged  appeared  as  com- 
fortable as  cai'e  and  attention  could  make  them.  One 
old  lady  was  pointed  to  us  who  was  a  hundred  and 
six  years  old  ;  she  could  read  without  glasses,  and 
had  the  use  of  all  her  faculties.  The  dinner-hour 
was  near  ;  three  pounds  and  a  half  of  potatoes  were 
poured  from  a  net  upon  the  table  for  each  individual ; 
fingers  supplied  the  place  of  knives  and  forks,  and 
the  dexterity  of  a  company  of  urchins,  in  divesting 
the  potatoe  of  its  coat,  and  dabbing  it  into  the  salt 
upon  the  table,  caused  me  imprudently  to  say,  "  I  am 
happy,  my  lads,  to  see  you  so  pleasantly  employed." 
"  Silence  "  was  written  upon  the  walls,  but  this  unlucky 
remark  of  mine  changed  the  suppressed  titter  into  a 
laugh,  and  the  unfortunate  wights  were  turned  into 
the  yard,  in  spite  of  all  mediation  on  my  part,  as  being 
the  aggressor.  But  the  loud  laugh  and  buoyant  leap 
of  these  boys  testified  that  the  loss  of  a  dinner  could 
not  bring  sadness  into  the  hearts  of  these  merry  Irish 
lads. 

The  most  admirable  arrangement  was  shown  in  the 
beds,  which  were  made  of  straw,  and  emptied  every 
month,  and  clean  straw  substituted.  The  straw  taken 
out  is  cut  up,  and  flung  into  a  large  pit;  the  suds  from 
the  laundry  are  then  conveyed  to  it  by  a  channel,  and 
it  is  thus  converted  into  a  rich  manure.  The  yearly 
profit  from  this  plan  is  from  .£!130  to  .£140  ;  this  is  a 
great  economy,  besides  the  advantage  of  cleanliness  to 
the  inmates.  This  manure  is  sold  for  the  benefit  of  the 
institution,  and  a  multitude  of  swine  are  fattened  on 
the  ofi"als  of  the  food,  and  are  sold  for  the  same  pur- 
pose. Twice  a  week  soup  is  given,  and  stirabout  and 
buttermilk  in  the  morning  ;  the  aged  and  invalids  have 
bread  and  tea  when  required. 

Letters  of  introduction  I  greatly  dislike,  for  two 
reasons.  They  place  two  parties  in  a  constrained 
position ;  the  individual  who  presents  the  letter  feels  a 
kind  of  dread  lest  he  may  be  thought  a  burdensome  extra 


CHAP.  I.]  DUBLIN.  31 

appendage,  which,  if  received,  will  only  be  out  of 
complaisance  to  the  friend  who  sent  the  letter.  The 
person  who  receives  it  may  feel  that,  though  he  respects 
the  friend  that  sent  it,  yet  it  comes  in  the  very  time 
when  it  should  not,  when  all  was  hurry  of  business  ; 
and  how  can  time  be  lost  in  showing  picture  galleries, 
and  making  pic-nics  .?  Besides,  the  mistress  may  have 
a  bad  servant,  the  house  may  be  in  disorder,  and  one 
night's  lodging  would  turn  a  room  or  two  topsy-turvy, 
and  often  the  visitor  is  politely  handed  over  to  some 
neighbor  as  a  compliment,  for  a  fresh  introduction. 
I  have  so  often  been  peddled  about  as  a  second-hand 
article  in  this  way  that  I  have  now  letters  of  introduc- 
tion of  years  old,  which  I  never  have  presented,  and 
never  shall. 

Believing  that  the  actors  alone  in  the  following  tra- 
gedy will  be  the  only  persons  who  will  understand  who 
I  mean,  I  shall  not  spare  to  tell  the  whole  truth.  I 
had  promised  to  accompany  the  young  ladies  home 
from  church,  and  dine  with  them,  when  the  letter  of 
introduction  was  left ;  I  did  so,  and  was  introduced  to 
a  spot  where  the  style  of  house  and  lands  showed  them 
to  be  a  vestige  of  an  aristocratic  race.  The  parent 
had  gone  down  to  the  dust,  leaving  a  son  and  three 
daughters  on  the  paternal  estate,  with  all  the  insignia 
of  comfort  around  them.  They  were  of  the  Estab- 
lished Church,  lofty  in  their  views,  great  haters  of  the 
low  Irish,  and  quite  careful  that  the  Apostle's  injunc- 
tions should  be  religiously  observed,  where  servants  are 
required  to  ''be  obedient  to  their  masters." 

"  I  receive  you,"  said  the  sister  to  whom  the  letter 
was  directed,  ''  on  the  strength  of  the  note  you  brought ; 
but  I  must  be  candid  in  saying,  I  am  not  partial  to  the 
Americans,  because  they  keep  up  no  distinction  of  rank, 
and  eat  with  their  servants." 

Dinner  was  soon  brought,  when  a  maiden  lady,  whose 
age  had  been  stationary  probably  for  the  last  twenty 
years,  was  introduced.  This  lady  had  seen  enough  of 
the  world  to  make  her  vain,  possessed  enough  of  its 
wealth  to  make  her  proud,  and  had  religion  enough  to 


32  DUBLIN.  [chap.  i. 

make  her  a  boasting  pharisee.  I  soon  knew  I  had 
much  to  fear  and  little  to  gain,  for  she  called  for  a  new 
bottle  of  wine  to  be  opened,  as  the  doctor  told  her  she 
must  always  use  a  little  at  her  dinner,  or  brandy,  if 
she  preferred  it;  for  she  was  bilious.  "  See,  madam," 
said  she  to  me,  "  our  Saviour  made  wine,  as  the  mar- 
riage could  not  be  celebrated  without  it ;  and  Paul  said 
to  Timothy,  ^  Use  a  little  wine  for  your  often  infirmi- 
ties.' Do  you  see,  madam,  God  has  made  all  these 
things  for  our  comfort" — taking  a  glass  with  much  relish 
at  the  same  time.  Seeing  me  decline  a  plate  of  flesh, 
"  What !  don't  you  take  meat  ?  Have  the  doctors 
told  you  it's  bad  for  you  ?  Why,  do  you  know  that 
meat  was  given  on  purpose  for  the  benefit  of  man  .^" 
Here  followed  an  unbroken  lecture  on  the  creation,  the 
command  given  to  Adam  to  control  the  beasts  of  the 
field,  the  fowls  of  the  air,  and  the  fish  of  the  sea,  and 
make  them  his  food.  Then  the  practice  of  our  Saviour. 
*'  So  you  see,  madam,  I  have  the  Bible  at  my  tongue's 
end ;  and  here's  Miss  W — ,  a  good  Christian,  a  church- 
going  woman.  Come  now,  don't  go  to  church  to-night. 
You  came  from  America,  and  can  tell  us  much  about  it. 
This  would  do  us  more  good  than  a  sermon.  Come, 
come,  what  do  you  say  to  all  this?" 

Not  a  word  had  been  uttered  to  interrupt  this  pell- 
mell  volubility,  when  the  presiding  sister  said,  ^'  Mrs. 
N.  is  a  disciple  of  Mr.  Graham,  and  perhaps  would 
give  us  a  little  lecture  on  flesh  eating  ?"  /'  O  !"  cried 
the  antiquated  heroine,  clapping  her  hands,  "  that's  it 
— that's  the  thing — that's  the  thing  !"  Sipping  her  wine 
again,  "  Come,"  nodding  her  head,  *'  you  may  make  a 
convert  of  me ;  come,  I'm  ready.  Now  begin.  Hear, 
hear!"  The  uproar  became  quite  theatrical,  for  all 
joined  in  the  chorus  of  "  Hear,  hear  !  Begin,  begin!" 
To  give  a  little  rebuke^  but  more  to  make  an  honora- 
ble escape,  I  asked,  "  How  do  you  spend  your  Sabbaths  ? 
PerhajDS  something  else  would  be  better."  All  with 
one  voice  cried  out,  ^' Give  us  a  lecture — a  Bible  lec- 
ture on  flesh  eating — now  !  now !  and  we  will  be  all 
attention."    The  lecture   commenced,  when  soon  the 


CHAP.  I.]  DUBUN.  33 

whole  four  pounced  upon  me,  and  with  one  vociferous 
tumult,  crying  and  clapping  their  hands,  and  the  chief 
speaker  exclaiming,  "  Now  !  now  !  we  have  got  it — 
Hear  !  hear  !  NVhy  now,  you  must  be  a  fool,  or  out  of 
your  mind.  I  thought  you  were  in  a  decline,  you  looked 
so  emaciated  and  so  woe-begone." 

In  self-defence  I  was  obliged  to  say,  "  You  will 
excuse  me  from  making  any  attempts  to  proceed.  I 
sincerely  think  the  lady  who  has  been  speaking  must  be 
insane,  or  half  intoxicated."  This  finished  the  battle  ; 
the  ridicule  was  turned  into  rage  ;  I  left  the  table,  fol- 
lowed by  the  youngest  sister,  and  we  both  went  into  the 
garden.  Apologising  for  the  warmth  of  the  lady,  she 
said,  "  you  must  know  that  she  is  highly  respectable." 
"  But  lacks  good  breeding,"  I  continued.  "  No  in- 
deed," rejoined  the  miss. 

The  eldest  sister  made  the  same  apologies  in  essence, 
and  I  remarked,  that  the  conduct  I  had  seen  to-day  in 
this  house  would  have  disgraced  the  lowest  American 
table,  even  where  servants  might  be  permitted  to  take  a 
seat !  I  then  took  my  bonnet  and  shawl,  made  my 
salaam,  and  departed. 

This,  reader,  was  my  first  letter  of  introduction,  ajid 
it  was  a  letter  which,  when  given  me  in  New  York,  I 
was  assured  was  the  very  one  that  would  introduce  me 
into  the  first  Protestant  society  in  Dublin. 

Truly,  I  never  had  spent  the  hours  of  a  Sabbath  so 
profanely  in  my  life.  I  was  vexed  at  myself,  and  dis- 
gusted with  the  spider-web  education  of  females  in  the 
higher  walks  of  life  ;  but  I  was  not  discouraged ; 
neither  did  I  rail  at  all  Ireland,  or  tax  her  fair  daugh- 
ters with  being  the  most  affected,  the  most  impudent, 
and  the  most  ignorant  of  all  others.  I  have  not  found 
it  so,  though  this  specimen  in  a  family  of  high  preten- 
sions was  then  and  still  is  a  problem  quite  difficult  to 
solve. 

On  Wednesday  morning  I  walked  with  a  young  lady 
to  the  Phoenix  Park.  On  our  way  we  met  many  inte- 
resting things,  which  made  me  inquire,  who  shall  heal 
the  wounds  of  bleeding,  dying  Ireland  ?  So  far 
2* 


34  DUBLIN.  [chap.  i. 

as  taste  of  man  and  nature's  best  skill  could  make  it, 
every  spot  is  full  of  interest,  but  every  pleasant  object 
in  Ireland  is  dashed  with  some  dark  shade,  which 
defaces,  if  it  does  not  entirely  put  out,  the  beauties  of 
the  picture.  In  my  pleasant  morning  walks  in  the 
land  of  my  fathers,  I  had  never  been  accustomed  to 
meet  the  pale-faced  dejected  mother,  and  the  ragged 
child,  begging  "  a  halfpenny  for  a  bit  of  bread."  This 
morning  a  modest-looking  woman  approached  with  a 
basket  of  oranges,  and  without  giving  her  the  pain  of 
a  refusal,  I  said,  ''  I  am  sorry,  ma'am,  I  have  not  a 
penny  to  buy  an  orange."     I  then  asked, 

^'  Have  you  a  family  .^" 

"  Yes,  ma'am  ;  and  their  father's  been  dead  this 
eight  months,  and  they  are  all  helpless  around  my 
feet." 

*'  Have  you  been  to  breakfast .?" 

"  No,  ma'am,  I  come  out  to  get  a  bit,  if  I  could  sell 
a  little  of  these.  A  morsel  will  not  cross  the  lips  of 
one  of  us  till  it  is  bought  by  these." 

"  How  much  do  you  make  a  day  ?" 

"  Sometimes  sixpence,  but  moretimes  not  so  much." 

As  I  passed  on,  "  sometimes  sixpence,  but  more- 
times  not  so  much,''  sounded  in  my  ears  ;  and  yet  this 
to  Dublin  ears  would  scarcely  be  called  a  cry  of  dis- 
tress, or  the  speaker  an  object  of  compassion.  And 
often  have  I  been  answered,  when  pleading  for  the 
poor,  "  What's  that  ?  They  are  used  to  it."  "  Used 
to  it  !"  The  longer  the  poor  have  suffered,  and  the 
lower  they  have  fallen,  the  more  haste  should  be  made 
to  rescue  them. 

As  I  returned,  the  novel  inscription  of  *'  Asylum 
FOR  Unmarried  Ladies,"  on  the  plate  of  a  door,  at- 
tracted my  attention  ;  and  I  begged  the  privilege  of 
visiting  it.  I  found  this  was  an  institution  for  single 
females  of  respectable  character,  who  were  advanced 
in  life,  whose  means  were  limited.  Here  they  are  pro- 
vided with  shelter,  fuel,  lights,  and  furniture  ;  twenty- 
one  females,  with  every  comfort  that  order  and  clean- 
liness could  bestow,   were   here.     Each   manages  her 


CHAP.  II.]  DUBLIN.  35 

own  affairs,  sucli  as  cooking  and  taking  care  of  her 
clothes,  as  she  chooses, — as  much  so  as  if  in  her  own 
house  ;  and  such  as  are  able  are  expected  to  pay  2s. 6d. 
per  week.  This  makes  them  feel  an  independence 
which  persons  in  all  grades  are  fond  of  claiming.  Pity, 
great  pity,  that  bachelors  are  not  taxed  with  all  these 
expenses,  for  they  above  all  other  men  demand  the 
most  attention  from  females  when  age  advances.  This 
institution  was  formed  by  two  or  three  young  females, 
and  much  credit  do  they  deserve  for  their  laudable 
undertaking.  May  they  find  as  good  a  shelter  if  they 
shall  ever  need  one  ! 


CHAPTER  II. 


Dialogues  with  the  Poor— An  English  Prophecy— Clontarf  Castle— Plan  for  the 
Relief  of  the  Destitute— A  Dying  Saint— Journey  to  Tullaniore— Family  Af- 
fliction— Visits  to  the  Poor — The  Jail — The  Poorhouse — Irish  Beggars — A 
Scene  on  leaving  TuUamore— Return  to  Dublin- Extraordinary  Spectacle  on 
the  Road — Connaught  Laborers — The  Two  Convicts — A  Man's  Merit  cannot 
be  judged  by  his  Coat — Another  Visit  to  the  Dying — A  Military  Congregation. 

^'  Come,  ladies,  the  morning  is  sunny.  You  have 
taken  your  tea,  and  a  little  excursion  into  the  outskirts, 
where  the  air  is  free  and  balmy,  will  do  you  good.  A 
kind  look  and  word  to  the  poor  of  this  world  would 
cost  but  little,  and  it  might  resuscitate  some  dying 
hope,  and  wipe  some  falling  tear  from  the  widow's  or 
orphan's  eye."  I  must  go  alone,  and  my  first  letter  of 
introduction  meeting  such  a  sad  repulse,  I  fortunately 
substituted  "  American  stranger."  It  was  a  day  of  in- 
terest, not  because  I  was  in  a  great  city,  not  because 
I  saw  squalid  poverty  in  every  street,  but  because  I 
saw  this  poverty  standing  out  in  a  kind  of  self-pos- 
sessed freedom,  which  seemed  to  say,  "  Though  I  am 
divested  of  my  beauty,  though  I  am  shorn  of  my 
strength,  there  is  in  me  a  germ  of  life  that  shall  one 
day  come  forth."     Its  very  antiquity  commanded  re- 


36  DUBLIN.  [chap.  ii. 

spect.  ''  Do  you  think,"  said  a  grey-haired  old  man, 
"  that  Ireland  will  ever  see  a  good  day  ?  Though  my 
ould  eyes  will  never  see  it,  my  children's  may  ;  for 
God  is  good." 

He  was  leaning  upon  a  wall,  covered  with  rags  of 
various  colors,  yet  cheerful  and  uncomplaining. 

'^  And  what,  sure,  sent  you  here  .^"  cried  a  wretched 
looking  woman,  bearing  a  little  mug  of  beer.  "  You 
must  be  going  astray  in  yer  mind  to  leave  so  fine  a 
country.  The  Irish  are  all  kilt,  ma'am.  They  can  get 
no  work  and  no  bread." 

"  But  why  do  you  buy  this  beer  if  you  have  no 
bread  .?" 

"  Ah !  I've  a  pain  in  the  liver,  and  it's  for  my 
strength  I  take  it." 

"  Where  do  you  live  .^" 

"  I  don't  live  nowhere  ;  I'm  only  strugglin'  to  get 
my  bit ;"  at  the  same  time  sitting  upon  the  ground, 
and  saying  to  herself,  "  God  save  her,  the  cratur,  she's 
goin'  astray  in  her  mind." 

I  went  into  cabins  of  filth,  and  T  went  into  cabins  of 
the  greatest  cleanliness,  whose  white-washed  walls  and 
nicely  scoured  stools  said  that  "  she  that  looketh  well 
to  the  ways  of  her  household"  lives  here.  All  ages 
saluted  me  as  the  American  stranger,  and  said  one, 
"  Ye'r  a  wonderful  body  ;  and  did  you  come  alone  ? 
Oh  !  America  is  a  beautiful  country,  and  if  I  was  there 
I  would  get  the  mate."  Seeing  a  repeal  button  in  the 
coat  of  a  man  standing  by  his  car,  I  inquired,  "  Do  you 
find  employment,  sir  .'^" 

"  But  little,  ma'am  ;  I  suffer  much,  and  get  little. 
O'Connell  has  worked  hard  for  us,  and  is  now  in  jail. 
I'm  waitin'  here  for  a  job,  and  the  thief  of  a  fellow 
won't  get  on  to  my  car  with  my  repeal  button  in  sight. 
But  I  will  wear  it.  Oh  !  the  country's  dyin'  ;  it's 
starvin'  ;  it's  kilt.  And  O'Connell  wont  let  us  fight, 
and  I  'spose  that's  the  best  way." 

A  cleanly  woman,  knitting  upon  a  wall,  told  me  she 
was  English  ;  had  been  in  Dublin  a  year  ;  her  health 
was  poor,  and  she  had  come  out  for  an  airing.    "  But  oh  ! 


CHAP.  II.]  DUBLIN.  37 

these  miserable  beggars.  They  think  they  shall  get 
free  ;  but  England  is  so  grabbing  they  never  will  ; 
and  besides  there  is  an  ancient  prophecy  that  England 
is  to  fight  and  conquer  the  whole  world,  and  give  them 
all  the  gospel." 

^'  Where  did  you  find  this  prophecy  .'*" 

"  They  say  it's  in  the  Bible." 

^'  To  what  church  do  you  belong  .^" 

"  To  the  Protestant." 

"  You  should  read  the  Bible  for  yourself,  and  see  if 
you  can  find  such  a  prophecy." 

•'  I've  a  prayer-book" — 

Leaving  this  learned  theologian,  I  found  a  woman 
sitting  upon  a  stone,  with  a  basket  of  gooseberries  by 
her  side,  from  which  she  had  sold  but  three  halfpence 
farthing's  worth  since  the  preceding  morning. 

"  I  have  three  children  to  feed,"  said  she,  "  and  God 
knows  how  I  can  do  it  ;  when  they  were  babies  around 
my  feet,  I  could  feed  'em,  and  put  decent  clothes  on 
their  bodies  ;  but  now  I  can  get  no  work." 

For  a  halfpenny  she  poured  twice  the  value  into  my 
bag,  which  I  refused  ;  when,  with  the  tear  in  her  eye, 
she  said,  "  You  would  give  more  if  you  had  it,  and  you 
speak  a  kind  word  to  the  poor  ;  and  what's  a  handful 
of  gooseberries  .^"  Turning  to  the  old  men  who  were 
breaking  stones,  I  said  to  them,  "  You  are  aged,  and 
how  much  do  you  have  for  this  labor .?" 

"  Sixpence  ha'penny  a  day,  ma'am." 

"  Is  that  all .?" 

"  Ah  !  that  is  better  than  idleness,"  said  the  younger, 
"  and  my  wife  gets  a  job  now  and  then  which  helps  us 
a  little." 

Clontarf  Castle  was  now  in  sight ;  at  its  gate  was  a 
surly  porter  rudely  abusing  a  poor  woman  for  entering 
its  enclosure.  The  reader  may  be  reminded  that  a 
faded  dress,  tattered  shoes,  and  weather-beaten  bonnet, 
have  no  right  through  the  gate  of  any  gentleman's 
estate  ;  and  looking  about  upon  my  own,  at  the  same 
time  using  my  pass-word,  I  hoped  a  more  ready  en- 
trance would  be  granted. 


38  DUBLIN.  [chap.  II. 

"  I  am  sorry,  ma'am,  I  cannot  let  you  in,  as  you  are 
an  American  ;  but  none  can  enter  without  a  pass." 

"  Your  master,  sir,  has  a  splendid  estate,  but  I  should 
prefer  being  a  little  poorer  than  the  steward  of  all 
this." 

'^  Not  I  :  if  the  rich  can't  be  happy,  I  don't  know 
who  can.  Why,  this  man  has  his  coach-and-four,  his 
horses  for  hunting,  his  good  dinners  and  wine,  and 
what  has  he  but  comfort  ?" 

"  But,  sir,  a  good  conscience  is  better  than  all  this." 

"  What  have  we  to  do  with  that?  We're  all  born, 
but  we  ain't  all  buried  ;  and  what's  behind  there  is 
nothing  to  us." 

The  associations  about  the  castle  were  such,  that  my 
disappointment  was  considerable,  that  I  would  not  be 
admitted.  Colman's  graphic  description  of  a  battle 
fought  there  in  the  year  1014,  which  was  more  than 
awful,  had  left  upon  me  such  an  impression,  that  I 
wished  much  to  see  the  spot.  A  little  girl,  filthy  and 
ragged,  carrying  a  dirty  cloth  containing  a  few  raw 
potatoes,  approached  with  a  courtesy,  saying,  "  Lady, 
I  am  very  hungry  ;  I  hav'n't  had  one  mouthful  to  eat 
since  yesterday  morning." 

"  Do  you  tell  me  the  truth  .?" 

"  I  do,  lady." 

Her  voice  faltered,  and  a  gush  of  tears  relieved  her. 

^'  I  have  no  father  or  mother,  and  live  with  a  grand- 
mother by  the  bridge.  The  good  folks,  ma'am,  have 
certainly  gone  out  of  this  world.  They  hunt  me  from 
their  doors,  and  hav'n't  given  me  one  morsel  to-day." 

"  And  have  you  had  no  breakfast  to-day  .^" 

"  Not  so  much  as  would  fill  a  bird's  eye,  lady  ;  I  tell 
ye  the  truth." 

She  kept  close  to  me,  and  continued  chattering  in 
the  most  simple  manner,  and  wondering  what  ailed  the 
world,  and  what  would  become  of  her,  saying,  "  O,  I'm 
so  hungry  !" 

In  the  evening,  I  sat  down  ^'  to  gather  up  the  frag- 
ments" of  the  day.  I  had  seen  painful  things,  I  had 
seen    pleasant   things,   and   though   all   were    common 


CHAP.  II.]  DUBLIN.  39 

events,  yet  out  of  the  varied  materials  I  had  put 
up  this  little  parcel  as  worthy  a  second  reviewal. 
*'  What  ought  to  be  done  can  be  done."  This  ignorance, 
this  hunger,  this  patient  double-distilled  misery  sit 
with  a  bad  grace  on  a  benevolent  Christian  city  like 
Dublin.  But  you  answer,  "  It  was  always  so,  and  al- 
ways will." 

Suppose  fifty  ladies  in  this  city,  who  have  leisure, 
should  go  out  at  ten  in  the  morning,  and  mingle  pro- 
miscuously with  the  poor  upon  the  street,  take  their 
number,  ascertain  who  is  worthy,  and  who  is  unworthy  ; 
who  need  instruction,  and  who  will  receive  it ;  who 
are  idle  from  necessity,  and  who  from  choice  ;  who 
can  do  one  kind  of  work,  and  who  another,  and  who 
can  do  nothing  at  all  ;  who  are  old,  and  who  are  sickly  ; 
who  can  go  to  a  place  of  worship,  and  who  cannot,  &c. 
By  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  each  lady  could  ascer- 
tain the  true  condition  of  twenty  persons  at  least, 
making  in  all  a  thousand,  who  might  be  truly  deserv- 
ing, and  who,  with  a  little  assistance  of  work  and  ne- 
cessaries, would  soon  be  placed  beyond  want.  But  be 
careful  that  the  payment  be  a  full  equivalent.  Nothing 
gives  the  industrious  honest  poor  man  more  encourage- 
ment than  this  ;  it  makes  him  hope  ;  he  sees  something 
tangible  before  him  ;  he  sees  he  may  yet  have  a  decent 
garment  and  a  comfortable  meal,  independent  of  his 
rent ;  and  he  feels  that  he  may  sleep  without  the 
dreadful  torment  of  a  debtor's  pillow.  Let  this  going 
out  into  the  "  high-ways  and  hedges"  be  continued,  and 
how  many  disconsolate  hearts  could  be  lifted  up  ;  how 
many  tears  would  be  wiped  from  the  cheek  of  the 
orphan,  and  how  many  blessings  from  the  lips  of  those 
who  are  ready  to  perish  would  be  poured  forth.  This 
has  been  done,  and  can  be  done  again.  Dublin  stands 
nobly  prominent  in  her  charitable  institutions;  there 
are  none,  save  the  poor  sailor,  but  have  a  place  in 
her  kind  provisions  for  the  destitute  ;  still  there  is  much 
land  to  be  possessed. 

Monday^  July. — In  company  with  a  young  lady, 
visited  the  cabin  of  a  poor  dying  saint.     She  stood  on 


40  TULLAMORE.  [chap.  ii. 

that  narrow  neck  of  land  between  the  two  worlds, 
which  to  the  poor  sinner  is  a  fearful  position,  but  to 
her  it  was  like  the  last  step  to  land  from  a  tempes- 
tuous voyage,  where  she  would  meet  her  best  kindred. 
Her  earthly  friends  had  forsaken  her,  because  she  had 
left  the  Romish  church,  and  though  griping  poverty 
was  pinching  her  five  little  ones,  and  she  must  leave 
them  to  a  selfish  world,  yet  she  said,  "  I  have  not  one 
anxious  thought  about  them.  Jesus,"  she  emphati- 
cally added,  ''  does  all  things  well ;  and  last  night  he 
gave  me  such  a  cluster  of  light,  that  the  whole  room 
was  enlightened  by  his  presence ;  and  soon,  yes,  soon 
I  shall  see  him  as  he  is."  How  has  Christ  honored 
poverty,  and  how  he  delights  to  dwell  with  the  poor  and 
contrite ! 

Tuesday^  July  2d. — Must  leave  for  Tullamore.  I 
had  removed  my  lodgings  from  the  first  kind  house 
where  I  stopped,  and  had  found  in  the  second  all  that 
hospitality  which  is  so  congenial  to  a  stranger,  and 
was  becoming  much  attached  to  Dublin  ;  but  rest  was 
not  my  errand  to  Ireland,  and  the  kind  daughters  of 
the  family  accompanied  me  at  seven  in  the  morning  to 
the  fly-boat,  where  I  was  packed  as  tight  as  live 
stock  could  be  in  any  but  a  slave  ship.  Here  I  found 
a  company  of  would-be  intelligent  Irish  and  English 
aristocrats,  who,  on  "both  sides  of  the  house,"  were 
professed  enemies  to  the  poor  Irish,  calling  them  a  com- 
pany of  low,  vulgar,  lazy  wretches,  who  prefer  beggary 
to  work,  and  filth  to  cleanliness.  How  much  of  this  may 
be  true  I  pretend  not  to  decide,  but  this  may  be  safely 
hazarded,  that  it  is  an  established  law  of  our  nature  to 
hate  those  we  oppress.  The  American  slaveholder,  while 
he  keeps  his  foot  upon  the  slave,  demises  him  for  his 
degradation,  and  while  he  withholds  a  knowledge  of 
letters,  and  closes  the  Bible  against  him,  hates  him  be- 
cause he  is  ignorant  and  a  heathen.  In  eight  hours  we 
reached  Tullamore,  a  distance  of  fifty  miles,  and  the 
first  novelty  was  the  market-place. 

The  appearance  of  the  people  here  was  not  pre'pos- 
sessing,  for  there  was  not   one  among  them   decently 


CHAP.  II.]  TULLAMORE.  41 

clad,  and  everything  indicated  that  a  last  effort  had 
been  made  to  set  off  the  merchandise  to  the  best  ad- 
vantage, while  the  looks  of  the  seller  seemed  to  say, 
^'  We  have  toiled  all  day,  and  caught  nothing." 

A  son  of  the  lady  to  whom  I  had  letters,  conducted 
me  to  the  terrace,  and  as  the  letters  were  from  her 
daughter  in  America,  I  expected  a  cordial  reception, 
and  was  not  disappointed.  Tinctured  a  little  with 
aristocracy,  well  educated,  and  disciplined  by  family 
disappointments,  her  mind  had  become  chastened,  and 
she  appeared  as  if  struggling  to  support  an  independ- 
ence which  a  heart  sinking  under  silent  grief  could 
not  long  sustain.  The  children  were  well  trained,  and 
had  been  educated  mostly  at  home  by  herself.  Her 
husband  was  of  a  good  family,  and  had  speculated  her 
property  away,  and  as  the  last  resource  fled  to  that 
"  house  of  refuge,"  America  ;  and  an  absence  of  three 
years,  without  sending  her  any  relief,  left  suspicions 
on  her  mind  that  all  was  not  well.  I  had  seen  her 
daughter  in  New  York,  who  had  followed  her  father 
thither,  and  she  begged  me  to  search  out  the  family  in 
Ireland,  and  do  what  I  could  to  comfort  her  mother. 
My  errand  was  a  painful  one, — family  troubles  can 
seldom  be  mitigated  by  foreign  legislation  ;  and  while 
this  noble  minded  afflicted  woman  made  full,  meaning, 
but  indirect  inquiries,  her  voice  faltered,  the  tear 
was  in  her  eye,  and  for  a  moment  I  regretted  that  I 
had  complied  with  her  daughter's  request.  Her  well- 
regulated  family  being  assembled  around  the  family 
altar,  she  read  an  appropriate  prayer  with  practical 
observations,  adding  suitable  ones  of  her  own,  which 
made  the  devotions  pleasant  to  me,  for  it  savored  of  a 
heart  that  had  been  made  better  by  the  things  it  had 
been  called  to  suffer. 

The  next  morning,  the  twin  daughters  of  eleven 
years  accompanied  me  into  a  lane  to  see  the  poor. 
Here  I  found  these  lovely  girls  had  long  been  ac- 
quainted, for  they  inquired  of  a  poor  old  man  about 
the  growth  of  a  pig,  and  kindly  patted  the  well  known 
pets  of  donkeys,  goats,  and  dogs,  calling  them  all  by 


42  TULLAMORE.  [chap.  ii. 

Dame,  while  tlie  mistress  went  into  the  garden  to  pluck 
a  bouquet  for  the  fine  girls,  who,  she  assured  me,  were 
the  smartest  in  the  parish. 

I  had  always  heard  the  Irish  were  celebrated  for 
giving  the  pig  an  eminent  berth  in  their  cabins,  and 
was  a  little  disappointed  to  find  that  though  it  was 
really  so,  yet  there  was  some  nicety  of  arrangement 
in  all  this  ;  for  in  two  cabins  I  found  a  pig  in  a  corner 
snugly  cribbed,  with  a  lattice  work  around  him,  a  bed 
of  clean  straw  under  him,  and  a  pot  of  food  standing 
near  the  door  of  his  house,  to  which  he  might  go  out 
and  in  at  option.  And  in  both  these  huts,  though  the 
floors  were  nothing  but  the  ground,  yet  these  were 
well  swept  ;  a  peat  fire  was  smouldering  on  clean 
hearths,  and  the  delf  was  tastefully  arranged  upon  the 
rude  shelves.  An  old.  cobbler  sat  with  his  lap-stone, 
and  said  he  could  make  one  and  six  and  one  and  ten 
pence  a  day,  and  he  took  care  of  the  bit  of  ground  at 
the  rear  of  his  cabin  for  the  rent  of  it.  "  My  wife, 
praise  be  to  God,  is  dead,  but  I  can  get  a  comfortable 
bit  for  my  children."  An  old  blind  man  of  seventy- 
two,  sitting  at  the  door  of  his  cabin,  thanked  God  that 
he  had  no  right  to  complain,  though  he  had  seen  better 
days  ;  for  he  had  "  two  kind  gii'ls,  who,  when  they 
had  done  all  in  and  out  of  the  cabin,  got  little  jobs  now 
and  then,  which  kept  the  bread  in  all  their  mouths." 
On  looking  into  the  cabin,  nothing  could  be  cleaner. 
Here,  too,  the  family  pig  was  snoring  snugly  in  his 
crib  in  one  corner  of  the  room ;  and  here,  in  all 
justice,  I  must  say  that  these  pigs  were  well  dis- 
ciplined, for  when  one  of  them  attempted  to  thrust  his 
nose  into  a  vessel  not  belonging  to  him,  he  was  called 
a  dirty  pig,  and  commanded  to  go  to  his  own  kettle, 
which  he  did  as  tamely  as  a  child  or  a  dog  would  have 
done. 

Another  cabin  attracted  us  by  the  tidy  white  aprons 
upon  two  little  girls  who  were  standing  at  the  door, 
and  their  nicely  attired  mother,  with  clean  cap  and 
handkerchief,  who  welcomed  me  heartily  to  Ireland. 
On  my  commending  her  for  her  cleanliness,   she  said, 


CHAP.  II.]  TULLAMORE.  43 

**  Plase  God,  poor  folks  should  be  a  little  tidy  who 
have  nothiug  else  to  set  'em  off.  Would  ye  walk  into 
the  garden  ?  May  be  ye'd  like  a  rose  or  two. "  We  wil- 
lingly complied,  and  found  an  acre  of  kitchen  garden 
well  cultivated,  with  a  few  flowers  interspersed,  which 
they  rented  for  nine  pounds,  and  sold  the  avails  for 
the  support  of  the  family.  She  plucked  her  fairest 
roses  and  ripest  gooseberries,  and  bade  me  God  speed, 
long  life,  and  a  safe  return  to  my  own  country. 

I  returned  from  this  lane  much  gratified  by  the 
cleanliness,  simplicity,  and  comfort  of  this  humble 
people,  for  I  had  ever  associated  a  mud  wall,  a  thatched 
roof,  and  a  pig  as  an  inmate,  with  all  that  was  wretched 
in  the  extreme  ;  and  I  had,  so  far  as  this  lane  could 
speak,  abundant  evidence  that  a  very  little  will  make 
the  Irish  content,  and  even  happy. 

In  the  afternoon  I  visited  the  jail,  a  building,  with 
its  appendages,  including  an  acre  and  a  half  of  land. 
It  contained  feighty-one  prisoners  ;  seventeen  had  been 
that  morning  sent  to  Dublin  for  transportation. 
They  were  all  at  work ;  some  cracking  stones,  some 
making  shoes,  and  others  tailoring  or  weaving. 
Their  food  is  one  pound  of  stirabout,  and  milk  in  the 
morning,  and  four  pounds  of  potatoes  for  dinner. 
There  are  two  hospitals,  one  for  males  and  the  other 
for  females.  The  drop  where  criminals  are  executed  is 
in  front ;  four  had  suffered  upon  it  within  the  last  two 
years. 

From  the  prison  I  went  to  the  poor-house,  which 
was  conducted  on  the  same  principle  as  that  of  Dub- 
lin ;  but  the  funds  were  so  low  that  but  three  hundred 
could  be  accommodated,  and  multitudes  of  the  poor 
were  suffering  upon  the  streets.  A  flourishing  school 
was  in  operation,  the  specimens  of  writing  doing  honor 
to  the  teachers.  The  children  are  fed  three  times  a 
day  ;  they  get  a  noggin  of  milk  at  each  meal,  with 
porridge  in  the  morning,  potatoes  at  noon,  and  bread  at 
night. 

The  next  day  rain  kept  me  within  doors,  and  I  had 
the  painful   annoyance  of    seeing   beggars    constantly 


44  TULLAMORE.  [chap.  ii. 

walking  back  and  forwards  before  the  parlor  window  •, 
nor  would  they  depart,  though  often  told  they  could 
have  nothing.  The  sister,  who  supported  the  family 
of  her  brother-in-law,  now  returned  from  Dublin.  She 
was  a  woman  of  some  worth,  and  apparently  possessing 
much  piety.  The  poor  afflicted  wife  and  mother,  as 
soon  as  her  sister  returned,  and  the  excitement  abated, 
became  unwell,  imputing  the  cause  to  her  visit  at  the 
poor-house ;  but  sickness  of  the  heart  was  the  mover  of 
it  all.  In  the  morning,  when  I  went  to  bid  her  adieu, 
she  answered  not  a  word,  but  looked  as  if  in  a  state  of 
deep  despondency  : — 

"  When  woman  droops,  she  droops  in  silence ; 
The  canker  grief  gnaws  stealthily,  but  sure ; 
The  pallid  cheek,  the  sunken  e5^e  alone 
Give  note  of  death's  dire  work  within." 

Report  has  said  something  of  the  class  of  beggars  in 
Ireland ;  but  her  busy  tongue,  extravagant  as  she  often 
is,  could  not  exaggerate  here.  It  was  scarcely  eight 
o'clock  when  I  reached  the  coach,  but  the  beggars  had 
assembled  before  me  ;  for  the  going  out  of  this  vehicle 
is  the  hey-day  of  expectation.  To  them  a  foreigner, 
or  a  stranger,  whom  their  shrewdness  will  readily  de- 
tect, is  a  kind  of  common  plunder,  and  escape  is  a 
hopeless  undertaking.  The  coach  was  to  leave  at  half- 
past  eight,  and  while  I  stood  waiting,  I  saw  some  half 
dozen  of  men  with  spades  standing  in  a  cluster,  and 
inquired  if  they  had  work  for  the  day.  "  Not  a  ha- 
porth,  but  we  are  hoping  to  get  some."  I  asked  what 
was  the  price  of  labor.  "  From  six  to  tenpence,  and 
we  don't  get  work  half  the  time  at  this."  "  And  does 
this  support  you  .'^"  ^' O  ma'am,"  said  an  old  man, 
leaning  on  his  shovel,  ^'  we  hope  to  see  better  days, 
plase  God  ;  it's  but  a  sorry  bit  this  gives  us."  "  Father 
Mathewhas  done  much  for  you."  "Yes,  praise  be  to 
God,  as  early  as  now  in  the  morning,  the  people  round 
here,  standing  as  they  do  now,  would  be  cursin'  and 
fightin' ;  but  now,  thank  God,  there's  not  a  word  from 
their  lips." 


CHAP.  II.]  TULLAMORE.  45 

The  chief  centre  of  attraction  was  now  where  we 
stood,  as  I  was  a  stranger.  They  attacked  me  with, 
"  God  bless  you,"  "  a  penny,  if  you  plase,  lady,"  "  a 
ha'penny  for  a  poor  woman  and  child,  whose  father  is 
dead  this  twelvemonth,"  "  one  haporth  for  an  old  man," 
and  "  the  price  of  bread  for  a  poon  boy  ;"  the  boy 
grasping  my  clothes,  and  holding  fast,  in  spite  of  my 
efforts  to  disengage  myself — the  cries  and  importunities 
redoubling,  while,  like  swarming  bees,  they  sallied  out 
from  every  quarter,  till  the  crowd  was  immense.  In 
vain  I  preached  loyalty  to  the  government,  temperance, 
and  peace  ;  my  voice  was  lost  in  the  clamor  of  "  plase, 
lady,  it's  the  haporth  ye'll  give  us,  thank  God."  The 
overseer  of  the  coach,  from  his  window  seeing  my 
dilemma,  hastened  out,  and  kindly  begged  me  to  get 
upon  the  coach,  where  they  could  not  annoy  me  so 
seriously.  He  helped  me  aloft.  Laborers  and  beg- 
gars, some  on  crutches,  some  with  two  legs,  and  some 
with  one,  mostly  clad  in  coats  of  divers  colors,  varie- 
gated with  all  shades  and  hues  ;  boys  with  a  garment 
suspended  from  the  hips,  hanging  in  strips,  making  a 
kind  of  frill — these  all  followed  in  pursuit.  By  the 
time  I  was  well  adjusted,  a  sea  of  upturned  faces,  some 
with  hats  and  caps  in  hand,  to  catch  the  falling  penny, 
lavished  all  sorts  of  blessings  on  America  and  the 
kind  lady  who  had  come  to  see  them,  who  as  yet  had 
not  given  them  a  farthing.  Waving  my  hand  for  a 
moment,  all  was  silent.  I  endeavored  to  count  them  ; 
there  were  about  two  hundred  and  twenty,  one  half  at 
least  beggars.  The  huddling  became  so  confused  that 
I  could  not  proceed,  and  1  resorted  to  exhortation, 
telling  them  to  be  true  to  their  young  queen  ;  that 
they  had  a  Father  Mathew  to  keep  them  sober ;  a 
never-tiring  friend  in  O'Connell,  who  said  he  would 
"  rot  in  prison  for  them  if  need  be;"  and  under  all 
these  encouragements,  they  must  be  patient.  "  That 
we  will,  lady,  and  the  blessin'  of  Almighty  God  be  on 
ye,  and  the  prayers  of  the  blessed  Vargin,  if  ye'll  give 
us  the  penny."  The  scene  had  now  become,  to  say  the 
least,  ludicrous,  painful,  and  unseemly.    1  had  travelled 


46  TULLAMORE.  [chap.  ii. 

by  sea  and  by  land  among  the  savages  of  my  own 
country,  the  poor  abused  slaves  on  the  plantations,  the 
degraded,  untutored  native  Canadians  ;  but  this  eclipsed 
the  whole.  I  looked  down  upon  the  forbidding  mass, 
and  saw  every  lineament  of  talent,  every  praiseworthy 
and  noble  quality,  every  soul-speaking  glance  of  the 
eye,  every  beauty  of  symmetry,  that  God's  image  ever 
possessed,  united  with  every  disgusting,  pitiable  incon- 
gruity that  imagination  could  depict.  Much  did  I 
wish  that  the  good  queen  would  leave  her  throne  for 
the  one  on  which  1  was  sitting,  and  see  for  a  few  mo- 
ments her  subjects,  her  loyal  Irish  subjects,  as  they 
really  are,  disgusting  to  refined  eyes  as  it  might  be. 
She  must,  she  would  pity,  and  though  her  administra- 
tion had  done  nothing  to  produce  this  state  of  things, 
yet  her  administration  should  and  could  produce  some- 
thing better.  I  begged  the  coachman  to  make  speed, 
knowing  that  a  few  pennies  dropped  among  them 
would  endanger  faces  and  eyes,  if  not  pull  me  from 
the  coach ;  and  the  promise  was  given,  that  when  my 
bag  of  money  should  come  from  America,  part  of  it  at 
least  should  be  poured  down  upon  them.  "  Faith," 
cried  a  poor  woman  with  a  dirty  urchin  hanging  to 
her,  "  and  ye'll  be  here  no  more,  if  the  bag's  to  come 
with  ye."  The  coachman  attached  his  horses,  leaving 
the  whole  town  with  the  troop  of  ragamufiins  swing- 
ing hats  and  caps,  cheering  America  and  the  queen, 
shouting  and  calling  for  a  penny  till  we  were  out  of 
hearing. 

When  we  had  well  escaped,  "  What  is  this  P"*  I  begged 
the  coachman  to  tell  me.  "  It  is  the  case  of  all  Ireland 
wherever  you  travel ;  a  fine  country,  but  cursed  with 
bad  laws."  ''  But  whence  could  all  these  miserable 
objects  that  swarmed  around  the  coach  proceed  .^" 
"  From  the  mountains  and  places  around  ;  they  all 
know  the  time  that  the  coach  goes  out,  and  are  always 
in  readiness  ;  they  are  not  all  street  beggars,  only  try- 
ing their  hand  at  the  coaches  and  canal-boats." 

Tullamore  is  the  assize  town  of  the  King's  county ; 
it  is  situated  nearly  in  the  centre  of  the  bog  of  Allen, 


CHAP.  II.]  RETURN  TO  DUBLIN.  47 

and  the  proprietor,  the  Earl  of  Charleville,has  done 
much  to  improve  it.  Good  schools  are  established, 
and  the  poor  in  the  town  are  more  comfortable  than 
in  many  others  in  the  vicinity.  The  road  lay  from 
Tullamore  through  a  part  of  King's  county  and  Kil- 
dare,  to  Dublin,  a  distance  of  fifty  miles ;  and  forty- 
five  of  this  it  was  lined  on  each  side  with  hawthorn 
and  cinnamon-brier  hedges.  The  brier  was  in  full 
bloom  ;  the  air  had  been  purified  by  the  preceding 
day's  rain  ;  and  the  fragrance  of  the  sweet  brier,  united 
with  that  of  the  new-mown  grass,  which  lay  here  and 
there  as  we  passed,  made  a  day's  ride  of  the  pleasantest 
I  ever  enjoyed,  so  far  as  sweetness  of  air  and  beauty 
of  scenery  were  concerned.  But  the  beggars  we  had 
left,  and  the  beggars  that  met  us  at  every  village  where 
the  coach  stopped,  made  me  dread  the  appearance  of  a 
human  creature.  We  passed  the  most  beautifully  cul- 
tivated fields,  where  not  a  stone  or  a  stump  could  be  seen, 
and  saw  gardens  joined  to  the  most  forbidding-looking 
hovels,  where  roses  were  blooming  upon  the  walls, 
and  even  upon  many  a  thatch  were  waving  flowers  of 
variegated  beauty  ;  so  that  the  unaccustomed  stranger 
must  ask,  ^'  What  means  this  strange  contradiction  ? 
How  can  such  taste  for  farming  and  gardening  be 
blended  with  such  unseemly  rags,  such  debased  minds, 
and  such  a  lack  of  self-respect  as  many  of  these  beings 
manifest  ?  What  must  be  the  state  of  that  people,  who 
can  walk  and  breathe  in  such  a  paradise  of  delights, 
and  not  be  assimilated  in  some  measure  to  the  more 
than  enchanting  prospects  around  them  .?" 

"Look!  look!"  said  the  coachman,  "if  you'd  see 
a  sight."  The  sight  should  not  be  recorded,  for  the 
credit  of  human  nature  ;  but  how  can  the  evils  and 
deformities  of  Ireland  be  known,  if  they  are  not  ex- 
posed ?  and  how  can  eyes  that  have  always  been  look- 
ing out  upon  these  things,  dimmed  as  they  must  be 
by  constant  use  and  the  fogs  of  national  pride  and 
national  self-complacency,  see  these  discrepancies  with 
so  clear  a  vision  as  the  less  accustomed  and  the  less 
interested  can  see  them  ?     But  to  the  sight.     At  our 


48  RETURN  TO  DUBLIN.  [chap.  ii. 

left  was  an  old  ragged  woman,  bending  beneath  a 
huge  pack,  and  fastened  upon  that  was  a  boy  of 
thirteen  (as  the  coachman  and  a  passenger  averred,  for 
they  both  knew  him)  with  legs  entirely  naked,  not 
only  hanging  at  full  length,  but  dexterously  applied  to 
the  old  woman  his  mother,  when  he  wished  her  to 
hasten  her  speed,  while  he  held  his  cap  in  hand 
towards  the  coach  for  pennies.  This  was  allowed  by 
the  mother  to  excite  compassion,  as  well  as  to  indulge 
the  lad,  for  the  passenger  observed  that  he  would  not 
walk.  He  had  once  seen  the  mother  put  him  down, 
when  he  leaped  upon  a  stile,  and  thence  to  her  back, 
giving  her  a  kick,  saying,  '^  There  now,  go  on,  Miss 
Lucy  Longford." 

We  next  saw  a  caravan  of  Conn  aught  laborers,  on 
their  way  to  England  to  get  work.  One  horse  was 
drawing  nine  of  these  men,  with  a  woman  sitting 
among  this  score  of  legs,  on  the  bottom  of  the  cart ; 
and  the  coachman  assured  us  that  the  "  owner  of  her" 
was  the  one  between  whose  feet  she  was  sitting.  He 
further  informed  me,  that  the  practice  of  these  people 
is  to  go  out  to  gather  the  English  harvest,  which 
arrives  before  the  Irish,  and  at  the  same  time  wife  and 
children  go  out  to  beg.  The  cabin-door  is  fastened, 
and  they  agree  to  meet  there  on  a  certain  time,  bring- 
ing home  the  avails  of  the  labor,  and  they  go  in  to- 
gether at  the  unfastening  of  the  cabin. 

Stopping  at  a  village,  a  woman  presented  a  basket 
of  oranges,  and  a  troop  of  beggars  fell  upon  me  as 
suddenly  as  though  dropped  from  the  clouds,  demand- 
ing the  pennies  I  had  received  in  change  for  the  orange. 
And  so  clamorous  were  they,  that  I  felt  myself  in 
danger,  and  distributed  all  I  had,  which  did  not  sup- 
ply the  whole.  One  was  so  rude  in  pulling  me,  that  I 
should  certainly  have  called  for  the  police,  if  the  coach- 
man had  not  relieved  me  by  applying  his  whip,  and 
leaving  her  behind. 

Upon  the  back  seat  of  the  coach  were  two  convicts 
sentenced  to  transportation,  chained  together,  with 
three    policemen    as    a    guard.     The    eldest    was    a 


CHAP.  II.]  DUBLIN.  49 

hardened  veteran,  singing  merrily  as  we  proceeded, 
with  roses  stuck  in  his  cap.  The  younger,  a  youth  of 
about  eighteen,  was  sad,  looking  as  if  he  was  on  the 
verge  of  bursting  into  tears.  The  sight  was  affecting. 
Poor  boy  !  he  might  be  fatherless,  but  have  a  mother 
whose  heart  has  doated  on  him,  and  who  still  yearns 
over  him  ;  while,  in  some  unguarded  hour,  the  fatal 
deed  has  been  done,  which  severs  him  not  only  from  her, 
but  from  his  country  for  ever  ;  which  makes  him  a  dis- 
graced exile,  and  drives  him  further  into  the  thick 
meshes  of  sin  and  temptation. 

When  we  arrived  at  Dublin,  in  Barrack-street,  where 
the  convicts  were  to  exchange  carriages,  the  host  of 
beggars  that  surrounded  us  could  only  be  equalled  by 
the  throng  at  Tullamore  ;  and  it  is  a  matter  of  wonder 
how,  at  a  moment's  warning,  such  a  herd  of  vagrants 
can  be  collected.  They  are  like  Pharaoh's  frogs  ;  they 
compass  the  whole  length  and  breadth  of  the  land, 
and  are  almost  as  much  to  be  dreaded  as  his  whole 
ten  plagues  ;  they  leave  you  no  room  for  escape  on 
any  hand  ;  dodge  where  you  will,  they  are  on  the  spot, 
and  the  ill-fated  stranger  needs  a  fathomless  bag,  who 
ventures  on  a  tour  among  these  hunger-armed  as- 
sailants. 

The  passenger  who  accompanied  us  proved  most 
happily  that  a  man's  merit  cannot  be  judged  by  his 
coat.  His  was  so  much  defaced,  that  when  I  found 
him  seated  near  me,  I  felt  a  little  annoyed.  I  was  af- 
terwards ashamed  of  myself  for  this  weakness,  for  I 
found  in  the  course  of  conversation,  that  he  was  well 
read  in  the  history  of  his  country,  had  travelled  out  of 
sight  of  the  smoke  of  his  own  cabin,  loved  Ireland, 
appreciated  its  virtues,  and  acknowledged  its  faults  ; 
and  though  he  was  no  enemy  to  O'Connell,  yet  re- 
peal was  not  his  hobby.  If  their  bogs  could  be  drain- 
ed, their  mines  explored,  their  waste  land  reclaimed, 
and  the  laborer  well  paid  for  his  toil,  he  would  as 
willingly  be  under  the  English  crown  as  that  of  the 
Irifih.  Peace  was  his  motto  ;  "  If  we  cannot  have 
our  rights  without  bloodshed,"  he  added,  "  let  us  die 
3 


50  DUBLIN.  [chap.  ii. 

oppressed  and  hated  as  we  are."  He  alighted  from 
the  coach,  while  the  horses  were  being  exchanged,  and 
unasked  returned  with  a  list  of  every  place  from  Tulla- 
more  to  Dublin,  wi'itten  in  a  most  neat  and  legible  hand. 
My  mistake  in  this  man  gave  me  a  valuable  hint,  which 
has  been  of  much  service  in  my  long  toui'  through 
the  country. 

When  the  evening  hour  of  reflection,  in  my  own 
room,  found  me  alone,  I  looked  back  upon  the  events  of 
the  day,  and  though  the  reader  may  see  little  in  it  that 
is  interesting,  yet  to  me  it  was  a  rich  and  valuable  one. 
It  was  the  last  day  of  the  first  excursion  I  had  made  in 
Ireland,  and  it  had  given  me  in  brief  detail  much  of  its 
true  history.  The  heart-stricken  woman  whose  house  I 
had  left  in  the  morning,  the  laborers  and  beggars  at 
the  coach,  the  enchanting  scenery  and  exhilarating  air, 
the  old  woman  and  son,  the  Connaught  men,  the  con- 
victs and  passenger,  would  each  make  a  valuable  chap- 
ter on  the  suffering,  crime,  beauty,  deformity,  and  in- 
telligence of  Ireland. 

"  A  mighty  maze,  but  not  without  a  plan." 

The  next  morning  I  visited  the  sick  saint,  whose 
animated  cheerful  countenance  told  that  the  peace  that 
passeth  all  understanding  reigned  within.  To  the 
question,  ''  How  became  you  a  Christian  ?"  she  an- 
swered, *'  God  Almighty  made  me  one  ;  yes,  praised 
be  his  name,  when  I  was  a  great  sinner,  he  called 
me." 

"  How  different,"  said  the  young  lady,  as  we  passed 
out,  "  is  Christ's  teaching  from  man's.  She  makes  no 
mention  of  prayers,  going  to  church,  or  reading  the 
Scriptures,  but  simply,  '  God  Almighty  made  me  a 
Christian.'" 

My  young  companion  then  accompanied  me  to  Irish- 
town,  and  we  heard  a  sermon  from  "  Go  ye  into  the 
world,  and  preach  the  gospel  to  every  creature."  The 
organ  and  music  were  excellent  and  appropriate,  and 
the  Queen's  regiment,  cap-a-pie  in  warlike  habiliments 
with  furbished  guns  and  bayonets  in  their  pews,  made 


CHAP.  III.]  CO.  OF  WICKLOW.  51 

a  most  peculiar  set-off  to  the  principles  of  tlie  text, 
which  are  "  peace  and  good  will  to  men."  But  never 
did  a  hundred  of  young  soldiers  in  any  house  of  God 
do  more  credit  to  good  air,  food,  and  exercise,  than  did 
these.  Each  had  his  prayer-book,  and  read  with  as 
much  apparent  devotion  as  though  the  success  of  a  bat- 
tle depended  on  it. 


CHAPTER  III. 

Visit  to  the  County  of  Wicklow— A  Tremendous  Coach-load— Horrors  of  the 
Journey — Safe  Arrival  and  kind  Reception — A  Happy  Family — Shelton  Abbey 
— Arklow— Beautiful  Scenery — Arklow  Fishermen — Domestic  Turmoil— Rath- 
drum— The  Vale  of  Avoca— Wicklow  Gold  Mines— A  Hungry  Man— An  Old 
War  Horse— A  Scriptural  Ans-wer— Visit  to  a  Rectory. 

On  Wednesday  morning,  with  my  good  friend  at  Dor- 
set-street, I  found  myself  at  the  coach  at  half-past 
five.  She  left  me,  and  an  hour  too  soon  prepared  me 
a  little  for  the  day's  strange  movements  which  were 
before  me.  The  hideous  loads  of  trunks,  chests,  ham- 
pers, sacks,  and  baskets,  which  for  an  hour  were  in 
ominous  fixings  and  re-fixings,  gave  fearful  note  of 
preparation.  ''  Where  shall  I  sit  ? — My  trunk  must  be 
here — My  band-box  will  be  all  jammed  up — And  wont 
you  please  make  a  little  room  for  my  legs  P^  began 
half  an  hour  before  the  horses  were  brought,  while  I 
at  a  respectable  distance  stood  with  basket  in  hand, 
waiting  a  clearance  of  the  ladder,  that  I  might  ascend. 
Seeing  an  opening  I  improved  it,  and  fixed  myself  in 
mid  air  with  one  foot  on  terra  firma,  the  other  seeking 
rest  and  finding  none.  And  now  the  full  tide  of  battle 
set  in.  I  had  been  seated  by  the  coachman  in  a  few 
inches  of  space,  just  left  by  an  old  fat  man  in  breeches 
who  had  moved  to  have  a  trunk  put  up  ;  and  when  he 
turned  about  for  his  seat,  and  found  it  filled,  ''  You 
have  got  my  place,  ma'am.     ^'  Sit  still,"  jogged  another 


53  CO.  OP  WICKLOW.  [chap,  hi. 

fat  Irisliman,  "  make  sure  of  what  you've  got  ;  and  here, 
sir,  you  can  take  it  quite  easy  on  the  top."  Behind  us 
was  a  kind  of  scaffolding  erected,  of  sufficient  width 
to  seat  two.  Here,  after  much  grumbling,  the  old  man 
with  his  bundle  was  adjusted,  his  footstool  the  necks  of 
each  of  us,  who  in  turn  handed  or  whirled  his  heels 
to  the  next,  while  the  poor  man  ever  and  anon  was 
heard  to  say,  in  a  subdued  tone,  ''  That  woman's 
got  my  sate."  ''  Be  aisy,"  said  my  fat  neighbor  at 
the  left,  when  1  gave  signs  of  pity  for  the  old  man. 
"He's  doing  quite  well."  And  now  the  storm  was 
working  into  a  tornado.  A  modest-looking  young 
girl,  who  had  waited  patiently  to  be  seated  (for  all  this 
time  we  had  not  stirred  an  inch  from  the  door)  asked 
what  she  should  do.  "  What  shall  you  do  ?"  said  the 
boor  of  a  coachman.  "Sit  where  you  promised,  or 
don't  sit  at  all,  on  the  top  of  the  luggage."  There  was 
no  alternative;  what  with  hoisting  from  below,  and 
the  old  man  pulling  from  above,  she  was  seated  upon 
her  perilous  throne,  while  we  had  a  second  pair  of 
heels  to  dispose  of,  to  the  no  small  annoyance  of  the 
poor  man  on  my  left,  who  did  not  like  to  make  the 
same  rude  arrangement  of  them  as  he  made  of  the  old 
gentleman's. 

We  had  proceeded  a  few  miles,  with  nineteen  upon 
the  top,  and  one  appended  to  the  back,  when  a  loud 
call  from  a  car  arrested  us,  with,  "  Can  you  take  a  few 
more  passengers  .'^'' 

"As  many  as  you  please,"  answered  the  glad  driver. 
The  clamor,  the  entreaties,  and  threats  of  the  pas- 
sengers, that  it  was  unlawful  to  load  any  vehicle  so 
unreasonably,  and  that  they  should  make  complaint, 
were  all  unavailing  ;  the  car  was  emptied  of  four  solid 
bodies,  besides  a  box  or  two  for  each,  with  baskets  and 
lesser  appendages,  and  all  transferred  to  the  coach. 
The  poor  affrighted  girl  over  our  heads  was  now  order- 
ed to  alight,  by  the  profane  blustering  coachman,  and 
without  ceremony  was  packed  among  us,  though  we 
already  had  eight  where  five  could  only  have  a  tolerable 
seat.      This  was  truly  fearful  as  well  as  intolerable  j 


CHAP.  III.]  CO.  OF  WICKLOW.  53 

a  corner  of  a  trunk  was  resting  on  my  shoulder,  and 
twenty  miles  I  rode  without  having  the  free  liberty  of 
my  head  or  full  turning  of  my  neck.  The  beautiful 
Vale  of  Avoca  we  entered,  but  my  cramped  position 
kept  me  from  one  solitary  look  at  it ;  the  ponderous 
coach  was  threatening  at  every  jostle  to  plunge  us 
headlong.  The  "  Plase  be  so  kind  as  to  move  an  arm 
or  a  leg,"  and  "  Do  be  aisy,  my  good  friends,  you  put 
my  hat  into  all  manner  of  shapes,"  went  on,  and, 
taken  as  a  whole,  it  was  the  most  perilous,  the  most 
uncomfortable,  laughable,  provoking  ride  that  could 
be  imagined. 

I  was  the  first  passenger  called  upon  by  the  coach- 
man, when  we  reached  Arklow  ;  and  inquiring  in  sur- 
prise what  he  could  mean  by  asking  money  for  peril- 
ling our  lives,  and  then  abusing  us  because  we  had 
sense  enough  to  know  it,  I  assured  him  I  never  would 
pay  a  man  for  abusing  me,  as  that  could  always  be  pro- 
cured without  price.  He  walked  away  amid  the  laugh- 
ter of  the  multitude,  without  soliciting  money  from  any 
other.  Twenty-nine  were  on  and  in  the  coach,  and  he 
expected  a  shilling  each  from  most  of  them.  I  was 
heartily  thanked  by  the  good-natured  Irishmen,  but 
this  was  a  poor  compensation  for  a  forty  miles'  ride  of 
peril  and  the  loss  of  my  luggage. 

My  carpet  bag  was  missing  ;  and  as  the  coachman, 
by  the  way  of  revenge  for  the  loss  of  fee,  would  not  look 
for  it,  I  was  left  to  make  my  way  without  it,  a  mile  and 
a  half  to  the  house  where  my  letter  was  directed.  En- 
deavoring to  take  a  shorter  route,  I  was  entangled  in 
hedge-rows  and  plunged  in  ditches.  Every  one  of 
whom  I  inquired  gave  me  a  different  direction,  while 
all  of  them  agreed  that  I  was  "  goin'  astray,"  and  some 
told  me  I  must  "  be  cracked."  At  length,  climbing 
upon  the  top  of  a  wall,  I  found  a  man  digging  in  a  pit, 

and   called,  "  Will  you  tell  me  the  way  to  Mrs.  

and  what  kind  of  a  woman  she  is,"  (for  my  vexatious 
ride  and  my  perplexing  walk  had  made  me  quite  sus- 
picious). His  reply  was,  ''  You  must  take  the  lane,  and 
go  by  the  monument ;  and  the  woman  is  not  a  bad  one  ; 


54  CO.  OP  WICKLOW.  [chap.  in. 

she's  a  snug  farm,  and  sent  five  barrels  of  potatoes 
to  the  poor  in  Arklow  last  winter."  This  was  a  cordial 
for  my  fears.  "  And  how  much  do  you  have  a  day  for 
labor  .?"  I  inquired.  "  But  a  sorry  bit,  ma'am.  I 
stay  here  all  day  without  my  dinner,  because  my  wages 
wont  buy  one.  Plase  God,  I  hope  we  shall  yet  see 
better  days  in  Ireland." 

Following  his  guidance,  I  found  myself  at  the  gate. 
An  open  lane  showed  the  placid  sea,  and  the  far-famed 
mountains  of  Wicklow.  About  the  door  were  roses, 
a  shrubbery,  and  lilies  of  the  most  beautiful  kind.  I 
entered  so  fatigued  with  the  day's  excursion,  that  I 
cared  but  little  whether  smiles  or  frowns  received  me. 
A  daughter  met  me  in  the  hall,  and  presenting  her  the 
letter  from  a  long  absent  brother,  she  invited  me  in. 
The  mother  was  called,  and  though  she  gave  me  no 
Irish  "  thousand  welcomes,"  yet  when  she  saw  the 
letter  from  her  son,  and  heard  the  sad  tale  of  my  coach 
ride',  the  loss  of  my  carpet  bag,  and  my  walk  through 
quagmire  and  ditch  to  her  house,  she  invited  me  in  to 
a  well  furnished  table,  with  every  appendage  of  neat- 
ness and  order.  The  party  consisted  of  the  mother, 
the  eldest  son,  four  daughters,  a  little  niece,  a  young 
lady  and  her  brother  who  were  lodgers,  and  two  ladies 
on  a  visit.  The  vexations  of  the  day  and  the  embar- 
rassments of  a  stranger  were  soon  lost  in  the  courtesy 
and  flow  of  kindness  manifested,  and  I  felt  as  if  seated 
at  the  dinner  table  of  an  intelligent  New  England  fam- 
ily, where  familiar  friends  had  assembled.  After  din- 
ner the  mother  invited  me  to  the  garden,  saying,  "  We 
have  made  our  arrangements  for  you  to  spend  a  week 
with  us,  and  if  we  did  not  wish  it  we  should  not  ask 
it ;  so  this  point  is  at  once  settled,  and  we  will  show 
you  what  we  can  of  our  country  and  people."  The 
kindness  of  this  offer  was  greatly  heightened,  when  I 
ascertained  that  the  3^oung  gentleman  who  lodged  with 
them  had  offered  his  room  for  my  accommodation, 
and  that  he  was  to  share  the  bed  of  the  son  of  the 
mistress. 

Reader,   do  you  love  domestic  life,  where  plenty, 


CHAP.  III.]  CO.  OF  WICKLOW.  55 

order,  and  comfort  reside  ?  Then  come  to  the  garden 
of  Ireland,  the  county  of  Wicklow,  and  I  will  intro- 
duce you  to  a  family  where  all  these  rare  qualifications 
may  be  found.  This  widow  had  been  the  mother  of 
eleven  children  ;  one  had  been  drowned,  and  his  monu- 
ment, with  that  of  his  father,  was  near  the  dwelling. 
A  son  was  living  in  New  York,  and  two  in  Ireland  ; 
four  daughters  were  at  home  ;  the  youngest  had  made 
a  choice  for  herself,  and  was  well  settled  near  the 
family,  in  one  of  the  tidy  cottages  that  adorn  the 
parish,  where  Lord  Wicklow  has  lavished  his  good 
taste  so  profusely.  Industry  and  economy  were  hap- 
pily blended  in  this  family  ;  the  daughters,  unlike  many 
in  Ireland  with  smaller  incomes  than  they,  were  not 
unacquainted  with  all  that  appertained  to  the  good 
management  of  a  house.  Their  plentiful  board  was 
spread  with  wholesome  food  of  their  own  preparing, 
and  every  apartment  of  the  house  testified  to  their 
handiwork.  The  morning  and  evening  prayer  as- 
cended from  the  altar  here ;  and  though  not  in  accord- 
ance with  my  own  habits  of  extemporaneous  prayer, 
yet  never  did  I  assemble  for  the  family  devotion,  but 
I  felt  on  retiring  that  my  heart  had  been  warmed  and 
my  resolutions  strengthened  in  serving  my  God.  It 
may  with  propriety  be  averred,  that  when  the  morning 
and  evening  prayer  are  ofi'ered  in  a  family  circle,  that 
family  is  generally  the  abode  of  peace  and  good 
order. 

"  Give  me  the  sweet  abode,  however  humble,'^ 
Where  every  child  is  taught  to  speak  the  name 
Of  God  with  reverence  ;  where,  morn  and  eve, 
The  lowl)'  knee  is  bent  around  the  hallow'd 
Shrine  of  prayer  and  praise." 

The  following  morning  the  mother  walked  with  me 
to  Arklow  ;  and  there,  to  my  great  joy,  was  my  carpet 
bag  left  by  th^  coachman  on  his  return.  I  found  that 
my  aged  companion  had  not  lived  in  vain ;  for  besides 
having,  after  her  husband's  death,  paid  some  hundreds 
of  pounds  of  debts  that  were  in  arrears,  she  reared 
eleven  children  in  habits  of  industry,  educated  them  for 


56  CO.  OF  WICKLOW.  [chap.  hi. 

good  society,  and  gave  them  all  tolerable  portions. 
She  has  a  mind  stored  with  interesting  anecdotes  of  the 
history  of  her  country,  especially  that  part  belonging  to 
the  days  of  ninety-eight.  The  poetry  with  which  all 
the  narrations  of  the  Irish  peasantry  are  mingled,  makes 
an  observing  listener  willing  to  give  them  Ossian  for 
their  countryman,  for  they  spontaneously  breathe  out 
many  of  his  sentences,  without  ever  having  known  his 
book  or  his  name. 

Shelton  Abbey,  owned  by  the  Earl  of  Wicklow,  is 
a  spot  of  much  interest,  not  only  for  its  beauty,  but 
for  the  happy  traits  of  character  united  in  the  earl 
and  his  family,  who  make  the  lot  of  the  poor  peasant 
tolerable,  if  not  cheerful.  Lady  Wicklow  has  estab- 
lished three  schools  among  the  cottagers,  which  she 
supports ;  and  she  visits  from  house  to  house,  inquires 
into  their  wants,  and  gives  them  premiums  for  clean- 
liness. Slated  roofs  are  substituted  for  thatch,  and 
on  visiting  fifteen  of  these  cottages  in  one  day,  I  saw 
not  a  dirty  uncomfortable  one,  and  only  one  where  the 
shrubbery  and  flowers  were  not  blooming  in  tasteful 
profusion  about  the  windows  and  whitewashed  walls. 
One  of  the  earl's  seven  daughters  writes  religious 
tales  for  the  cottagers'  children,  and  gives  them  as 
rewards  for  industry  and  cleanliness.  The  earl  sup- 
ports a  school  for  boys,  where  they  can  be  kept  till 
the  age  of  fourteen.  I  visited  one  of  Lady  Wicklow's 
schools,  and  saw  a  group  of  cleanly,  well  managed 
children,  who  are  instructed  by  a  maiden  lady  of 
good  capacity.  The  children  are  Roman  Catholics 
and  Protestants,  and  on  inquiring  into  their  attain- 
ments the  answer  was,  "They  are  educated  according 
to  their  rank;  they  belong  to  the  lower  order,  and 
reading,  writing,  arithmetic,  and  a  little  knowledge  of 
the  maps  is  all  the  education  they  will  ever  need." 
This  was  a  dark  spot  in  the  picture,  which  emphati- 
cally said  (contrary  to  the  injunction,  "  occupy  till 
I  come"),  '^  Hitherto  shalt  thou  go,  and  no  further." 
What  does  this  principle  say  to  the  wise  plan  of  the 
Almighty  in  the   distribution  of  his  talents  ?     If  the 


CHAP.  III. J  CO.  OP  WICKLOW.  57 

Saviour  gave  them  to  the  poor,  was  he  wise  in  doing 
so  ?  Did  he  say,  when  he  gave  five  talents,  "  I  give 
you  these  five  ;  but  as  you  belong  to  the  poor  of  the 
world,  you  must  hide  all  but  one."  What  steward 
over  God's  poor  can  give  a  good  account  of  his 
stewardship,  who  has  directly  or  indirectly  checked 
the  rising  of  an  intellectual  talent,  which  would  be 
used  for  the  glory  of  God,  or  the  benefit  of  man  ? 

Shelton  Abbey  has  the  appearance  of  a  castle.  It 
is  a  granite  building,  with  a  belfry  for  the  clock, 
which  makes  a  tower  of  no  mean  pretension.  In  the 
interior  of  the  edifice  there  was  no  lack  of  good 
taste  or  splendor.  The  family  were  in  London  at 
the  time  of  my  visit ;  but  the  servants  and  gardener, 
left  in  charge,  showed  us  the  premises.  A  little  spin- 
ning-wheel, with  flax  upon  the  distaff,  stands  in  the 
parlor  as  an  ornament  and  a  pattern  of  industry. 
Whether  Lady  Wicklow  has  taken  "  hold  of  the  distaff" 
with  her  own  hands,  and  furnished  her  house  with 
fine  linen,  was  not  told  us  ;  but  she  certainly  has 
strong  traits  of  one  of  Solomon's  virtuous  women. 
The  pictures  were  numerous  and  costly.  The  enor- 
mous representation  of  a  stag-hunt,  with  dogs  hold- 
ing by  the  teeth  a  poor  stag  in  the  act  of  leaping 
headlong,  formed  a  cruel  contrast  to  the  benevolent 
countenance  of  the  earl  hanging  near  it. 

"  I  would  not  enter  on  my  list  of  friends, 
The  man  who  needlessly  sets  foot  upon 
A  worm." 

A  call  at  the  cottage  of  the  young  married  sister  of 
the  family  where  I  was  stopping,  gave  an  additional 
zest  to  the  beauties  of  the  morning,  and  the  scenery 
around.  She  received  us  with  such  simple-hearted 
kindness,  and  spread  such  a  well  prepared  repast  in 
such  a  little  parlor,  and  in  so  short  a  time,  while  her 
chattering  little  girl  decked  us  with  the  freshest 
flowers  of  the  cottage,  that  I  almost  wished  my  lot 
had  been  cast  in  the  parish  of  Kilbride,  after  I  had 
received  my  education.  After  our  palatable  lunch,  we 
went  from  cottage  to  cottage,  our  company  swelling  at 


58  CO.  OF  WICKLOW.  [chap.  hi. 

every  stopping  place,  welcoming  the  American  stran- 
ger ;  the  salutations  being  often,  "  Welcome,  thrice 
welcome  to  our  country ;  a  thousand  welcomes  to  Ire- 
land." 

The  children  all  joined  in  the  salutation*,  and  we 
ascended  an  eminence  that  overlooked  the  sea.-  Need 
I  tell  the  reader  I  was  proud  of  the  honor  of  sitting 
in  the  midst  of  that  group  ?  Twilight  was  gathering 
around  us,  and  the  richly  cultivated  fields,  with  here 
and  there  a  costly  domain  and  the  thatched  cottage  of 
the  peasant,  were  at  our  right  and  left ;  for  we  had  left 
the  ornamented  part  of  the  parish.  But  here  the  eye 
was  not  pained  with  squalid  poverty,  and  had  I  not 
since  seen  any  of  the  desolations  of  this  ill-fated  isle,  I 
must  have  said,  "  If  this  be  Ireland,  who  shall  weep 
over  her  ?"  I  regretted  that  the  fall  of  night  made  a 
separation  necessary,  for  I  loved  to  hear  the  tiny 
voices  of  the  children,  as  they  plucked  the  wild 
flowers,  and  filled  the  lap  of  the  stranger ;  and  when, 
at  a  gate,  or  the  door  of  the  cottage,  I  heard  the  "  God 
bless  ye,  lady,"  I  sent  up  a  hearty  wish  to  heaven,  that 
all  Ireland's  enemies  might  be  touched  with  feelings 
like  my  own. 

The  next  day  we  visited  Arklow,  and  our  only  ob- 
ject of  curiosity  was  the  decayed  castle,  of  which  but 
one  tower  is  left.  This  the  serjeant  of  the  barracks, 
who  had  the  care  of  it,  kindly  ofi'ered  to  show  us.  It 
was  built  in  the  year  1200.  Now,  it  plainly  tells 
that  the  battering-ram  had  not  been  applied  in 
vain,  for  it  is  crumbling  to  ruin.  Our  guide  conduct- 
ed us  to  the  top  by  winding-steps,  to  look  out  upon 
the  adjacent  country,  and  see  where  the  great  battles 
had  been  fought  which  had  deluged  that  part  of  the 
country  in  blood. 

The  battle  of  Arklow,  while  "  seed-time  and  harvest 
remain,"  will  live  in  the  memory  of  all  who  saw  it, 
or  shall  read  of  it.  The  prospect  was  both  grand  and 
awful ;  the  river  Avoca  was  at  our  feet,  winding  grace- 
fully through  the  rich  vale  called  by  its  name.  At  our 
right-hand  lay  the  sea ;  at  our  left,  the  mountains  of 


CHAP.  III.]  CO.  OF  WICKLOW.  59 

Wicklow ;  behind  us  the  town  of  Arklow,  and  near 
where  I  stood  was  once  the  skull  of  Hackett,  which 
had  been  fixed  to  the  top  of  the  castle,  in  the  days  of 
the  rebellion.  This  man  had  killed  many  a  Protestant, 
and  in  return  they  shot  him,  took  off  his  head,  and 
placed  it  upon  the  top  of  the  castle,  where  it  remained 
till  a  few  years  since,  when  a  wren  made  her  nest  in 
his  mouth,  and  it  finally  tumbled  down,  and  received 
a  burial  in  the  side  of  the  tower. 

When  we  left  the  tower,  we  visited  the  fishermen's 
settlement  on  the  sea-shore.  This  consists  of  perhaps 
three  hundred  huts  of  a  squalid  appearance  outside  ; 
but  on  entering  one  of  them,  we  were  happily  disap- 
pointed, for  we  had  a  cordial  welcome  to  a  neatly 
whitewashed  room  ;  the  cupboards  in  the  kitchen  and 
little  parlor  were  neatly  arranged,  and  the  bed  neatly 
curtained.  This  is  quite  common,  even  where  the  pig 
has  a  bed  on  a  pile  of  straw  in  the  corner. 

When  we  were  about  leaving  the  settlement,  we 
heard  a  most  fearful  noise  in  a  distant  cabin,  and  as 
we  approached,  it  became  more  terrific.  We  hesi- 
tated, fearing  that  the  work  of  death  was  going  on. 
We  ventured  at  last,  and  saw  a  mother  in  a  most 
violent  paroxysm  of  rage,  standing  over  a  girl  of 
eleven  years  old,  with  a  stick  in  her  hand,  threatening 
that  she  would  kill  her,  and  that  instantly,  if  she  did 
not  ask  forgiveness  ;  the  girl  screaming  in  apparent 
fright,  pleading  not  to  be  killed,  bat  refusing  to  con- 
fess. We  entreated  the  mother  to  desist  for  a  moment, 
and  to  allow  us  to  speak.  Pale  and  trembling  with 
rage,  she  answered,  "  I  will  break  every  bone  in  her 
lazy  body,  ladies  ;  I  will  kill  her  now."  We  entreated 
that  she  would  allow  us  to  speak  to  the  child,  and 
finally  succeeded,  the  mother  meanwhile  taking  an  in- 
fant in  her  lap  of  eight  weeks  old,  and  giving  a 
spontaneous  history  of  her  family,  interlarding  it  with 
principles  that  would  do  honor  to  the  most  cultivated 
woman.  "  I  have  eleven  children,  ladies  ;  six  younger 
than  the  scrawl  that  has  so  provoked  me,  and  she 
hasn't  done  a  hap'orth  for  me  to-day.     She  has  been 


60  CO.  OF  WICKLOW.  [chap.iii. 

on  the  street  since  six  o'clock.  Laziness !  laziness ! 
ladies !  Shouldn't  she  be  bate  ?  and  when  I  got  her 
in,  and  gave  her  a  slap,  she  gave  me  impudence,  and 
went  into  that  room,  and  fastened  the  door  on  me, 
and  she  wouldn't  ask  my  forgiveness,  ladies ;  and  she 
wouldn't  ask  God's  pardon.  I  wish  I  could  bate  her, 
and  not  get  into  a  passion.''  "You  must  tell  her 
priest,"  said  one  of  the  young  ladies.  "  And  that  I 
will;  he'll  hear  of  this."  "But  she's  been  petted  at 
school,  and  it  won't  do  to  pet  such  scrawls  ;  and  be- 
fore she  will  be  idle  and  filthy,  I'll  kill  her.  She'd 
better  be  dead  than  lazy  and  dirty.  I  sent  to  Dublin 
and  got  a  piece  of  calico,  and  made  them  all  dacent. 
I  saved  a  piece  to  mend  'em  with,  and  you  see  here's 
a  rent  in  this  child's  arm  (holding  up  the  arm  of  a 
little  girl),  and  that  lazy  girl  won't  put  on  the  piece  ; 
and  she  can  sew  well.  I  can't  have  my  children 
ragged.  I  can't  have  'em  dirty.  It's  a  sin,  ladies. 
Their  father  toils,  poor  man,  till  dark  night,  to  keep 
their  clothes  dacent,  and  keep  'em  in  school."  Here  a 
shrivelled  old  woman  entered,  saying,  "  And  what's  all 
this  ?  This  girl  is  as  fine  a  slip .  as  ye'll  find  in  all 
Wicklow, — a  fine  scholar."  "  You  see,  ladies,"  re- 
marked the  mother,  "  how  she's  petted  ;  that's  the 
trouble.     They  must  be  bate." 

We  then  insisted  that  the  child  should  hear  us,  tell- 
ing the  old  woman  that  she  had  been  very  wicked, 
and  that  her  mother  ought  to  punish  her.  "  Ah!  poor 
woman,  and  she's  kilt  with  so  many  of  'em, — the 
craturs  ;  and  she  strives  to  make  'em  dacent,  and  so 
does  the  father ;  and  she'll  be  a  better  girl — and  won't 
ye  .^"  Among  us  all,  by  exhortations  and  entreaties, 
we  succeeded  in  getting  a  promise  from  the  offender 
that  she  would  try  to  do  better ;  that  she  would  go 
immediately,  and  mend  her  sister's  elbow ;  and  she 
voluntarily  thanked  us  kindly  for  our  good  advice. 
The  mother  also  thanked  us,  and  said,  "  What  will  I 
do  to  keep  down  my  temper .-'  When  I  see  this  child 
in   the  street  in  bad   company,  all  goin'  to  the  bad. 


cHAP.iii.J  CO.  OF  WICKLOW.  61 

larnin'  notbin'  but  wbat  tbe  divil  tells  ber,  ladies, 
sbouldn't  I  be  mad  ?" 

'  It  was  raiuing,  and  we  could  not  go  out :  all  was 
busbed  save  tbe  pattering  of  tbe  rain  upon  tbe  door- 
steps, and  we  sat  down  in  silence,  eacb  apparently 
inclined  to  meditate  on  tbe  scene  before  us.  "Tbe  still- 
ness seemed  like  tbe  great  calm  tbat  followed  tbe  voice 
of  tbe  Saviour,  when  tbe  surging  wave  of  tbe  maddened 
ocean  sbrank  away,  and  blended  together  into  a  placid 
molten  sea.  Tbe  paleness  of  tbe  mother  was  ex- 
changed for  that  wholesome  ruddiness  so  prevalent 
among  the  cleanly  Irish  peasantry,  contrasting  finely 
with  tbe  clean  cap  that  was  becomingly  adjusted  upon 
her  high  forehead.  Tbe  unconscious  infant,  in  a  clean 
pink  frock,  was  sleeping  on  the  lap  of  tbe  mother, 
which  was  covered  with  a  tidy  apron.  Tbe  refractory 
girl  bad  ceased  ber  sobbing,  aud  showed  a  face  and 
features  of  talent  and  interest.  A  little  girl  of  six 
years  old  was  standing  at  our  left,  with  face,  hands, 
and  feet  clean,  her  hair  well  combed,  ber  frock  and 
apron  whole  and  cleanly.  A  tidy  girl  of  about  four- 
teen was  nicely  adjusting  the  dinner  dishes  upon  a 
white  cupboard  with  the  greatest  care  and  stillness. 
The  room  into  which  tbe  young  rebel  had  fastened 
herself  was  clean,  and  for  a  cabin  nicely  furnished,  as 
could  be  seen  through  tbe  open  door.  Tbe  room  in 
which  we  were  sitting  contained  a  bed  in  the  corner, 
in  a  kind  of  enclosure,  with  a  clean  covering,  and  at  a 
little  distance  were  two  barrels,  with  a  pile  of  straw 
between  them,  on  which  a  couple  of  fat  pigs  were  ex- 
tended asleep. 

Tbe  silence  was  broken  by  my  asking  the  woman, 
"  Is  your  daughter  industrious  P^  alluding  to  the  one 
at  work.  "  God  be  praised,''  said  the  mother,  "  she 
never  gives  me  trouble  ;  she's  always  as  you  see  her — 
none  but  tbe  girl  who  has  been  so  petted."  Fearing 
"  the  clouds  might  return  after  the  rain,"  we  gave  ber 
the  most  friendly  cautions  and  wishes,  and  kindly  ad- 
monished the   penitent   girl,  who   followed,  us  to  the 


62  CO.  OF  WICKLOW.  [chap.  hi. 

door,  adding  her  thanks  for  our  kindness  ;  and  we  left 
this  fisherman's  cabin,  hoping  that  none  had  been  made 
worse  by  our  visit. 

"  What  good  sentiments,"  remarked  one  of  my  com- 
panions, ''  have  we  heard  expressed  from  that  mad 
woman  !  how  clean  her  cabin  !  how  nice  her  children  I 
and  what  a  mother  would  she  have  been  had  she  been 
educated  !"  We  all  looked  upon  the  poor  woman  with 
feelings  of  the  deepest  pity.  She  possessed  every  in- 
gredient of  mind  to  have  fitted  her  for  the  best  of 
mothers,  with  the  highest  sense  of  what  her  daughter 
should  be,  and  her  own  responsibility  to  make  her  so  ; 
yet  as  she  had  never  been  cultivated  herself,  and  had 
not  the  least  restraint  upon  her  temper,  we  had  reason 
to  fear  that  the  wayward  girl  might  yet  fall  a  victim  to 
the  mother's  rage.  We  had  visited  the  schools  in  Ark- 
low,  and  thought  of  again  calling  to  find  the  teacher  of 
this  child,  but  did  not.  In  these  schools,  which  are 
supported  by  private  individuals,  Protestants  and  Pa- 
pists are  taught  the  Scriptures  daily  ;  and  though  they 
appeared  not  quite  as  cleanly  as  Lady  Wicklow's,  yet 
they  merited  more  praise  than  censure. 

A  ride  on  a  pleasant  day,  through  a  pleasant  coun- 
try, in  pleasant  company,  with  a  good  horse,  an  easy 
carriage,  and  buoyant  health,  induces  the  fortunate 
traveller  to  note  pleasant  things  in  his  journal  of  the 
country  and  people,  especially  if  the  tea  be  prepared  to 
his  liking,  and  sent  in  at  precisely  the  right  time. 
Such  was  my  happy  lot  when  my  hostess,  her  daughter, 
grand-daughter,  and  a  young  man,  took  a  seat  on  a  car, 
and  accompanied  me  through  the  enchanting  Vale  of 
Avoca  to  Rathdrum.  At  Newbridge  we  met  a  rustic 
funeral  procession,  in  all  kinds  of  habiliments,  and  on 
all  kinds  of  vehicles  appropriate  to  that  class  ;  while 
the  black  pall,  with  knots  of  white  ribbon  a  few  inches 
apart,  from  the  head  to  the  foot  of  the  coffin,  borne  on 
the  shoulders  of  four  men,  as  a  substitute  for  the 
"  sable  hearse  and  nodding  plume,"  told  us  that  the 
body  enclosed  there  had  withered  in  the  morning  of 
life      We  had  scarcely  passed,  when  a  gladsome  wed- 


CHAP.  III.]  CO.  OF  WICKLOW.  63 

ding  party,  on  their  return  from  tlie  churcli,  where  the 
vows  had  been  performed,  burst  suddenly  into  view,  at 
a  short  turning  of  the  road,  and  their  every  look  and 
action  said, 

"  All  men  think  all  men  mortal  but  themselves." 

A  gentle  shower  sprinkled  us,  but  gave  additional  inter- 
est to  the  scenery,  as  we  rode  through  the  shady  grounds 
of  the  tasteful  domains.  The  grand  Castle  of  Howard 
was  looking  out  upon  our  right,  as  if  hanging  upon  the 
top  of  a  wooded  precipice  ;  the  domain  of  Mr.  Parnell, 
cousin  to  the  Earl  of  Wicklow,  lay  in  our  path.  He 
had  visited  the  United  States,  and  from  the  city  of 
Washington  he  had  selected  a  plant  of  no  mean  growth, 
and  fixed  it  in  this  laughing  Eden,  which,  while  the  rain- 
drops were  glistening  in  the  sun,  now  looking  out  upon 
the  broad-spreading  tree  and  verdant  lawn,  said,  if  hap- 
piness dwell  not  here,  we  must  seek  the  fugitive  in  other 
skies  where  purer  spirits  dwell. 

On  alighting  from  the  car,  we  were  received  by  a 
most  unassuming  young  woman,  a  relative  of  the  good 
lady  who  introduced  me  thither,  and  in  the  few  hours 
we  stopped,  we  had  one  of  the  happiest  specimens  of 
conscientious  devotedness  in  a  mother  to  the  welfare  of 
her  children  I  had  ever  seen.  She  had  three,  and 
*'  how,"  she  asked,  "  how  shall  I  train  them  for  use- 
fulness in  time  and  a  happy  immortality  ?"  She  was  a 
mother  of  prayer.  "  You  must  have  a  church  near  by," 
said  I,  ''  and  a  good  pastor,  I  hope,  who  helps  you 
to  guide  your  little  flock."  "  We  have,"  she  answered 
emphatically,  "  and  it  is  through  his  kindness,  his 
faithfulness,  and  his  untiring  watchfulness,  that  I  have 
been  most  deeply  made  to  feel  my  responsibility.  The 
church  you  see  here  was  built  by  himself,  and  he 
labors  in  it  without  pay,  employing  curates  as  he  sees 
fit,  and  all  the  parish  are  visited  by  him,  the  poor  as 
well  as  the  rich.  He  watches  over  the  children,  and 
they  look  to  him  as  their  father."  Happy  pastor  ! 
good  shepherd,  that  cares  for  the  sheep,  and  looks  well 
to  the  lambs  of  the  flock.     The  memory  of  such  will 


64  CO.  OP  WICKLOW.  [chap.  hi. 

never  perish.  It  can  be  said  of  him,  as  of  Goldsmith's 
village  preacher, 

"  Even  children  followed  with  endearing  wile, 
And  pluck'd  his  gown  to  share  the  good  man's  smile." 

The  little  town  of  Rathdrum  contains  about  two  hun- 
dred families,  and  is  fitted  up  with  considerable  taste. 
A  poor-house  well  filled  adorned  the  outskirts.  But  the 
ride  home — 

"  Now  came  still  evening  on,  and  twilight  grey 
Had  in  her  sober  livery  all  things  clad." 

It  was  Ireland's  summer  twilight,  lingering  long,  as 
though  loath  to  draw  the  curtain  closely  about  a  bright 
isle  in  a  dark  world  like  this.  It  was  early  in  July, 
the  rich  foliage  had  attained  its  maturity,  and  not  a 
seared  leaf  was  sprinkled  on  bush  or  tree,  to  warn  that 
autumn  was  near.  For  the  first  mile  the  road  was 
smooth  and  broad,  lined  with  trees  ;  now  and  then  a 
white  gate  with  white  stone  pillars,  opening  to  some 
neat  cottage  or  domain  ;  the  glowing  streaks  of  the 
setting  sun  had  not  left  the  western  sky,  and  glimmered 
through  the  trees  ;  while  the  air,  made  fragrant  by  the 
gentle  shower,  difi'used  through  body  and  mind  that 
calmness  which  seemed  to  whisper,  "Be  silent;  it  is 
the  Vale  of  Avoca  you  are  entering."  We  descended 
a  declivity,  and  the  vale  opened  upon  us  at  ^'  the  Meet- 
ing of  the  Waters."  The  tree  under  which  Moore  sat 
when  he  wrote  the  sweet  poem  had  been  pointed  to  me 
in  the  morning.  We  now  stood  near  the  union  of  the 
two  streams,  where  the  poet  says, 

"  There  is  not  in  the  wide  world  a  valley  so  sweet, 
As  that  vale  in  whose  bosom  the  bright  waters  meet." 

The  rich  variety  of  wood  ;  the  still,  clear,  limpid 
water ;  the  hill  and  vale,  in  some  parts  dark  and  wild, 
in  others  light  and  soft,  ever  and  anon  relieving  the 
eye  by  some  new  variety ;  but  above  all,  the  pleasant 
association  that  this  vale,  however  dark  and  deep  its 
recesses,  harbors  not  a  venomous  serpent  or  reptile — 
no,  not  even  the  buzz  of  the  musquito  is  heard — made 
it  unlike  all  others.     We  rode   three   miles,  scarcely 


CHAP.  III.]  CO.  OP  WICKLOW.  65 

uttering  a  syllable  all  the  while;  a  holy  repose  seemed 
to  rest  on  this  hallowed  spot,  as  when  it  first  bloomed 
under  the  hand  of  its  Maker,  and  imagination  was 
prompted  to  say,  as  no  serpent  has  ever  coiled  here,  the 
contaminating  touch  of  sin  has  not  left  its  impress. 

Never  did  I  leave  a  spot  more  reluctantly;  it  was  a 
night  scene  which  never  has  faded  from  my  eye,  and  I 
hope  never  will. 

"  O !  the  last  rays  of  feeling  and  life  must  depart, 
Ere  the  bloom  of  that  valley  shall  fade  from  my  heart." 

In  the  deep  silence,  the  voice  of  God  and  the  soft  whis- 
per of  angels  seemed  to  be  there.  These  voices  said 
kindly,  "  There  is  mercy  yet  for  poor  erring  man."  It 
appeared  like  the  bow  of  the  covenant,  telling  us  to  look 
and  remember  that  though  this  world  has  been  cursed 
by  sin,  yet  a  new  heaven  and  earth  are  promised,  of 
which  this  is  a  shadowy  resemblance. 

The  borders  of  this  valley  are  interspersed  with  gen- 
tlemen's seats,  and  here  and  there  dotted  with  the 
whitewashed  cottages  of  the  peasants  ;  and  the  rich 
cluster  of  foliage  upon  the  hill  sides,  upon  bush  and  tree, 
almost  persuade  you  that  the  dew  of  Hermon  has  fallen 
upon  them.  Stranger,  when  you  visit  Ireland,  visit  the 
Vale  of  Avoca.  If  you  love  God,  here  you  will  see  him 
in  a  picture  that  must  be  read  ;  if  your  stay  be  limited, 
waste  it  not  in  decyphering  a  time-defaced  stone,  tell- 
ing the  bloody  deeds  of  some  ancient  warrior,  or  the 
austerity  of  some  long-lived  ascetic,  but  linger  in  this 
spot ;  stop  at  the  neat  little  hotel,  erected  on  purpose 
for  the  accommodation  of  the  stranger ;  and  morning, 
noon,  and  night  explore  its  never-dying  beauties  of 
light  and  shade.  Three  times  did  I  go  through,  and 
when  I  turned  away  at  last,  I  felt  that 

"  I  could  stay  there  for  ever  to  wander  and  weep." 

The  fairy  pictures  of  Ireland  had  now  opened  upon 
me  so  vividly,  that  had  it  not  been  for  the  beggars  of 
Tullamore,  I  must  have  said,  surely  this  country  is  quite 
a  monopolist  in  its  pleasant  things ;  but  little  did  my 
enthusiasm  anticipate  the  check  that  awaited  it. 


66  CO.  OF  WICKLOW.  [chap.  in. 

The  next  day  a  ride  to  Killahester,  upon  tlie  moun- 
tains, five  miles  distant,  took  us  to  the  house  of  my 
hostess's  son.  He  accompanied  us  to  the  Gold  Mines, 
in  a  deep  ravine ;  these  were  discovered  more  than 
forty  years  ago,  and  government  then  attempted  to 
work  them,  but  soon  abandoned  the  project.  Now  any 
man  may  search  here  for  gold,  where  and  how  he  pleases, 
and  we  found  four  men  patiently  at  work  at  their  own 
risk.  They  informed  us  that  they  often  dug  for  days 
in  succession,  and  got  not  a  particle  of  gold;  then  they 
find  a  little,  sufficient  to  encourage  them,  and  they  pa- 
tiently labor  on.  Inquiring  of  a  lad  of  twenty,  "  Sup- 
pose you  work  a  month  and  find  none,  what  would  you 
then  do!"  he  replied,  "O  we  don't  mind  that;  the 
good  may  come  at  last."  Happy  for  the  poor  Irish, 
that  their  organ  of  hope  is  so  largely  developed,  other- 
wise they  would  sink  under  their  accumulated  burdens. 
They  showed  us  a  specimen  of  the  gold.  It  was  about 
a  guinea's  worth,  and  was  quite  pure.  The  lad  who 
produced  it  said,  "  We  be  never  disheartened."  Well 
they  might  take  courage,  for  digging  in  a  rock  for  gold, 
with  a  few  grains  now  and  then  as  a  reward,  is  as  good 
an  equivalent  as  working  for  sixpence  or  eightpence 
a  day,  and  buying  their  own  potatoes.  The  inhabit- 
ants of  this  mountain  are  many  of  them^poor,  and  live 
in  dark  mud  cabins,  with  a  scanty  supply  of  food. 
My  friend,  at  whose  house  I  stopped,  observed  that 
the  laborers  who  live  under  the  farmers  are  in  a 
better  condition  than  those  who  live  under  the  land- 
owners. The  latter  allow  but  tenpence  a  day,  out  of 
which  the  laborer  must  find  his  own  food,  while  a  great 
farmer  often  gives  fifteen  pence  and  part  of  the  food. 
My  friend  was  one  of  these  great  farmers  ;  he  had  two 
hundred  acres  of  land,  and  paid  his  laborers  in  that 
proportion. 

Passing  a  gate,  we  saw  a  man  at  work  with  a  small 
dog,  whose  emaciated  body  and  trembling  skulking 
manner  induced  me  to  say,  "  Your  dog,  sir,  looks  as  if 
you  do  not  feed  him  enough."  ''  And  that  I  don't," 
was  the  answer.  "  And  why  not  ?  you  should  kill  him  or 


CHAP.  III.]  CO.  OF  WICKLOW.  67 

feed  him  better."  The  master  made  no  answer,  but 
that  silent  eloquence  which  speaks  louder  than  words. 
As  we  walked  away,  "  Poor  man  !"  said  the  farmer, 
*'  he  is  much  of  the  time  hungry  himself;  he  gets  but 
little  work,  and  I  doubt  not  but  he  is  in  want  of  food 
this  minute."  The  sad  proofs  of  Ireland's  woes  were 
then  beginning  in  the  county  of  Wicklow,  and  I  could 
not  enjoy  the  palatable  meal  of  bread,  cream,  and 
fruit,  so  much  did  the  desponding  man  and  his 
famished  dog  annoy  me.  The  sight  was  then  new  to 
me,  to  see  a  man  in  a  season  of  plenty  about  his  avoca- 
tions without  sufficient  food  to  eat,  and  a  faithful  dog, 
meagre  and  starving,  watching  and  obeying  the  will  of 
the  master.  But  these  have  since  ceased  to  be  objects 
of  wonder. 

On  Saturday  I  visited  the  estate  of  a  gentleman  who 
had  perched  his  mansion  on  the  brow  of  the  Vale  of 
Avoca.  Here,  though  porters  and  dogs  guarded  the 
buildings,  yet  we  were  admitted  into  the  outer  porch  of 
the  temple,  and  had  a  walk  among  evergreens  and  flow- 
ers upon  the  margin  of  the  vale  ;  and  we  seated  our- 
selves upon  a  rustic  seat,  to  feast  again  upon  the  never 
fading  beauties  of  the  river  and  vale  at  our  feet.  A 
distant  landscape  of  cultivated  country  was  stretched 
beyond,  and  the  whole  looked  more  like  a  fairy  land 
than  a  real  spot  of  earth,  trees,  and  water.  We  were 
disappointed  that  we  were  not  allowed  to  enter  the 
premises,  and  see  the  greatest  curiosity  of  the  whole, 
a  mare  of  the  age  of  fifty  years,  who  carried  her  master 
to  the  great  battles  forty-six  years  before,  in  the  days 
of  the  rebellion.  She  is  said  to  be  in  good  flesh  ;  her 
head  is  white  with  age,  her  body  grey ;  and  the  daugh- 
ters of  the  man  who  was  once  her  owner  but  is  now  dead, 
have  the  beast  kept,  and  well  tended  on  this  estate,  out 
of  respect  to  both  their  father  and  the  animal.  The 
simple  hearted  cottagers  who  accompanied  me  presented 
a  picture  of  patriarchal  days  and  manners,  that  made 
me  regret  that  artificial  life  and 

"trade's  unfeeling  train 
Usurped  the  land  and  dispossessed  the  swain." 


68  CO.  OF  WICKLOW.  [chap.  iv. 

Calling  at  the  cottage  of  a  peasant,  attracted  by  the 
beauty  of  the  shrubbery,  and  to  inquire  the  way  to  Bal- 
lyarthur,  "  Pardon  me,"  said  the  woman,  and  hasten- 
ing into  the  cottage,  she  returned  with  her  bonnet  and 
shawl,  and  said,  "  I  will  go  with  you,  ladies,  and  show 
you  a  near  way."  She  was  advanced  in  life,  and  some- 
thing corpulent ;  and  her  effort  to  climb  over  stiles,  and 
pass  hedges  and  ditches,  for  the  accommodation  of 
strangers,  called  for  an  acknowledgment.  Her  scrip- 
tural answer  was  noticeable,  "  But  we  are  told,  ma'am, 
that  we  musn't  turn  the  stranger  out  of  his  way." 
Happy  would  it  be  if  all  who  read  the  Scriptures  more 
than  this  unnoticed  woman  would  practise  its  precepts 
as  well. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

The  Church  of  Kilbride— A  Methodist  Minister— Methodism  in  Ireland— Visit 
to  the  Rectorj' — Tetotalism  unfashionable — American  Courtesy  to  Females 
not  universal  in  Ireland— The  Seven  Churches  of  Glendalough— Foolish  Le- 
gends connected  with  this  locality — Strange  Exhibition  of  Party  Spirit — Re- 
turn to  Dublin— Lady  Hai-burton's  School, 

On  Sabbath  heard  the  rector  of  Kilbride  preach  a 
most  searching  sermon,  from  "  Knowing  the  terrors  of 
the  Lord,  we  persuade  men,"  insisting  that  we  should 
always  be  reminded  that  God  loves  justice  as  well  as 
mercy,  and  that  he  gave  an  awful  proof  of  this  love  in 
the  punishment  of  his  Son.  The  congregation  was 
small,  but  quite  in  accordance  with  everything  in  the 
parish,  neat  and  respectable  ;  the  music  was  sweet,  and 
"  Old  Hundred"  was  performed  in  that  soul-stirring, 
soul-fitting  manner  which  is  so  peculiar  to  that  tune 
when  well  performed.  If  set  tunes  are  performed  in 
heaven,  "  Old  Hundred"  and  "  Luther's  hymn"  must 
be  favorites  in  that  "  great  congregation."  This  rec- 
tor and  his  lady  were  among  the  first  in  the  morning 
at  the  sabbath-school,  which  he  opened  by  prayer, 
this  being  his  usual  custom.     When  introduced  to  him 


CHAP.  IV.]  CO.  OF  WICKLOW.  69 

as  an  American,  I  was  happy  to  find  that  his  rector- 
ship had  not  robbed  him  of  that  beautiful  urbanity  so 
characteristic  of  the  native  Irish,  for  he  gave  me  a 
hearty  welcome  to  Ireland,  in  true  Irish  mode.  "  I 
passed,"  said  he,  "  three  pleasant  years  in  New  York, 
and  left  it  witt  great  reluctance.  I  am  quite  attached 
to  its  customs  and  people  in  many  respects,  especially 
their  hospitality  to  strangers  and  their  politeness  to 
females." 

Sabbath  evening  supped  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Burke, 
a  Methodist  clergyman.  His  companion  was  one  of 
those  prudent  wives  who  are  from  the  Lord.  Her 
children  were  educated  by  herself  (the  proper  busi- 
ness of  mothers),  and  their  becoming  deportment  tes- 
tified that  the  pruning-knife  had  been  applied  in 
season.  Mr.  Burke  told  me  that  the  Methodists  now 
numbered  in  Ireland  about  29,000  members,  and  100 
preachers.  Certainly  these  indefatigable  laborers 
have  done  no  small  business  to  make  their  way  through 
Popery,  Prelacy,  Presbyterianism,  and  Independency. 
They  are  instant  in  season  and  out  of  season.  Went 
to  Arklow  at  seven,  and  found  a  plain  chapel,  with  a 
plain  man  in  the  pulpit,  and  heard  a  plain  sermon 
preached  to  a  plain  people,  all  in  accordance,  with  every 
nail  fitted  to  its  place. 

On  Monday,  the  family  of  my  hostess  were  invited  to 
make  a  social  visit  at  the  rector's.  His  cottage,  like 
those  of  most  of  his  neighbors,  was  surrounded  by 
shrubbery,  and  a  little  lawn  spread  out  at  the  front. 

"  The  soil  improved  around,  the  mansion  neat, 
And  neither  poorly  low  nor  idly  great." 

It  was  consistency  outside,  and  within  neatness  and 
good  order  prevailed.  The  mother  of  Mrs.  D.  and 
Mr.  D.'s  sister,  together  with  the  usual  accompani- 
ments, children  to  the  number  of  three,  composed  the 
family  of  the  rector  and  his  lady.  The  sister  had 
travelled  considerably,  was  highly  intelligent,  and  the 
wife  and  mother  would  do  honor  to  any  exalted  sta- 
tion.    The  evening  passed  pleasantly  and  profitably  to 


70  CO.  OP  WICKLOW.  [chap.  iv. 

me,  as  Mr.  D.  gave  what  he  thought  the  true  condi- 
tion of  Ireland,  and  the  cause  of  her  sufferings, 
namely,  popish  influence  and  the  bad  government  of 
England  in  the  beginning,  together  with  absenteeism. 
In  his  opinion,  if  repeal  were  granted,  the  exter- 
mination of  all  Protestantism  must  and  would  take 
place. 

The  reader  will  not  think  that  the  flowers  and 
shrubbery,  the  politeness  and  attention  of  the  people  of 
Kilbride,  had  so  won  upon  me  as  to  dim  my  vision 
to  all  that  is  unseemly,  when  I  add  that  in  this  intel- 
ligent, refined,  and  religious  little  party,  I  felt  that  a 
wiser  and" holier  Being  might  say,  "I  have  somewhat 
against  thee."  Here  was  a  sudden  check  upon  my 
happy  evening,  when,  to  my  surprise,  I  saw  the  wine 
giving  its  color  in  the  cup.  So  long  had  I  been  ac- 
customed to  view  it  as  an  evil  and  bitter  thing,  that 
I  thought  all  Christians  felt  the  same,  since  the  Lord 
commands  us  not  to  "look  upon  it  when  it  is  red," 
''  when  it  moveth  itself  aright  ;"  and  especially  since 
in  America  it  is  generally  believed  that  in  Ireland 
all  classes  of  the  people  have  got  rid  of  the  sin  of 
intemperance.  I  had  seen  it  before  on  Protestant 
tables,  but  did  not  expect  it  among  the  clergy  ;  but  I 
had  many  things  to  learn,  and  this  fact  was  one,  that 
this  heaven-inspired  movement  of  temperance  in  Ire- 
land not  only  owes  its  effectual  origin  to  the  Papists, 
but  is  continued  and  supported  mostly  by  them.  May 
God  in  mercy  to  poor  Ireland  open  the  eyes  of  the  of- 
ficers of  the  church,  and  the  leading  men  among  the  no- 
bility, to  act  as  he  would  have  them  act.  I  looked 
back  on  New  England  twenty-five  years  ago,  and  then 
saw  the  clergy  and  nobility  demurring  whether  it  was 
sinful  to  drink  in  "  moderation."  I  looked  upon  them 
now,  and  heard  them  unitedly  cry  out,  ""Touch  not, 
taste  not,  handle  not,  but  shun  the  appearance  of  evil," 
and  I  looked  upon  this  lovely  family  down  the  vista  of 
a  few  short  years,  hoping  and  believing  that  they  too 
would  be  emancipated,  and  walk  forth  unshackled  from 
tyrant  custom  and  tyrant  appetite. 


CHAP.  IV.]  CO.  OF  WICKLOW.  71 

The  time  of  departure  arrived,  and  a  second  subject 
was  discussed.  The  rector  had  said  an  hour  or  two 
before,  "  You  will  find  that  the  habits  of  our  country 
differ  widely  from  yours,  in  regard  to  the  attention  paid 
to  females  by  the  gentlemen.  While  the  gentlemen 
there  are  sometimes  over  attentive,  they  are  here  often 
neglectful,  if  not  uncivil."  I  regretted  to  hear  this, 
for  though  I  had  come  determined  to  meet  all  and  every- 
thing as  unfeelingly  as  possible,  yet  my  education  had 
taught  me  to  believe  that  the  attentions  paid  to  females 
should  spring  from  their  dependence  ;  and  this  depen- 
dence is  generally  greater  in  age  than  in  youth.  It  is 
much  to  be  lamented  if  Irish  mothers  have  not  in- 
structed their  young  sons,  that  to  suffer  a  female,  espe- 
cially an  aged  one,  to  go  out  at  night  alone,  to  climb 
into  a  carriage  without  assistance,  or  to  stand  up  in 
church  while  men  are  sitting,  is  unkind,  uncourteous, 
and  highly  reprehensible. 

Pardon  this  digression.  We  had  on  our  bonnets  and 
shawls  to  go  out,  and  the  kind  rector  had  his  staff  and 
hat  in  hand  to  accompany  us.  "  We  cannot  allow  you," 
said  a  young  lady,  "to  take  all  this  trouble  ;  we  can 
very  well  go  alone."  "No  female  whom  I  have  in- 
vited to  my  parlor  or  table  shall  go  out  of  my  house 
unprotected  on  a  dark  evening."  "  Amen  !"  responded 
my  heart,  for  I  could  not  see  how  any  man  could  do  less, 
and  be  a  man  still  ;  but  the  uneasiness  that  the  ladies 
manifested,  plainly  told  that  they  had  not  been  accus- 
tomed to  such  attentions. 

"  You  must  see  the  Seven  Churches,  before  you  leave 
the  county  of  Wicklow,"  said  my  good  friends.  This 
visit  to  the  Seven  Churches  is  a  memorable  one,  not 
only  on  account  of  the  marvels  which  we  saw  and 
heard,  but  the  pleasant  and  painful  associations  with 
which  it  is  connected.  The  young  husband  of  the 
daughter  of  my  hostess  offered  to  accompany  me  to 
the  place,  seventeen  miles  distant,  with  his  wife  and 
another  lady.  It  was  in  the  midst  of  haymaking,  and 
he  left  his  business,  hired  a  horse  and  car,  and  we 
started  at  an  early  hour  on  a  beautiful  sunny  morning. 


73  CO.  OF  WICKLOW.  [chap.  iv. 

We  stopped  a  few  moments  at  the  Copper  Mines,  wtich 
were  then  in  operation,  and  had  been  for  twenty  years. 
They  had  at  that  time  explored  a  mile  in  depth  into  a 
mountain  of  rocks,  and  found  sufficient  encouragement 
to  proceed.     Eight  shillings  a  week  was  the  laborer's 
compensation    for   this    arduous   toil.      Our   ride    was 
pleasant,  and  the  country  rich  for  the  first  part  of  the 
way.     VVithin  a  few  miles  of  the  Churches,  the  moun- 
tains become  higher,  and  are  covered  with  heath,  giv- 
ing them  a  barren  and  dry  appearance.     The  entrance 
to  this  celebrated  spot  is  not  through  lawns  or  pleasure 
grounds,  but  between  a  wall  of  strong  mountains   on 
the  right  and  left  ;  and  the  few  cultivated  spots  looked 
to  the  stranger  to  be  scarcely  a  sufficiency  for  the  poor 
peasantry,  who   soon  gathered  in  thick  array  around 
us  when  we  arrived,  to  show  us  the  wonders,  or  to  ask 
a  penny.     Old  men  and  maidens,  young  men  and  chil- 
dren were  on  the  spot,  each  with  the  utmost  servility 
ready  to  "  sarve"  us  in  the  best  and  "  chapest"  manner. 
We  were  obliged  to  shake  them  all  off  except  one,  who 
was  engaged,  and  handed  over  to  me,  as  I  was  a  stran- 
ger, and  my  party  had  visited  it  before.     The  sensible 
reader  shall  be  troubled  with  only  a  very  little  of  the 
consummate  nonsense  with  which  my  ears  were  stuffed 
during  the  long  six  hours  we  passed  among  these  ruins. 
The  first  object  of  interest  was  a  round  tower,  stand- 
ing alone,  one  hundred  and  seven  feet  in  height,  and 
about  six  and  a  half  in  diameter,  with  windows  at  some 
distance  from  the  top,  and  no  door  nor  entrance  what- 
ever   except   the  windows.     For  what    purpose    these 
incomprehensible  towers  were  built  everybody  attempts 
to  tell  us,  and  nobody  satisfies  the  inquirer,  even  if  he 
satisfy  himself.     Even  my  guide   told  no    legend   in 
connexion  with   it.     The  burying-ground  in  which  we 
were  standing  was  the  next  wonder.     Its  age  is  traced 
by  the   peasantry  back    to    the  first    peopling    of  this 
"  land  of  saints  ;"  some  asserting  that  St.  Patrick  was 
the  founder,   others  going  further  back  ;    but    among 
the  rude,  defaced,  and    dilapidated   stones,  I  did  not 
read  one  inscription  of  more  than  a  hundred  and  fifty 


CHAP.  IV.]  CO.  OF  WICKLOW.  73 

years  ago  ;  however  I  did  not  read  all,  and  many  were 
written  in  such  hieroglyphics,  that  the  Jesuits  who 
wrote  them  might  best  decipher  them.  The  graves 
were  pointed  out  to  us  where  five  priests  were  deposit- 
ed ;  and  there  were  deep  holes  in  these  graves,  whence 
the  consecrated  clay  had  been  taken,  which  we  were 
informed  would  cure  all  diseases,  however  obstinate. 
One  of  the  company  now  cried  out,  "  See  that  child 
hanging  from  a  high  grave-stone — she  will  be  killed  if 
she  falls."  "  Oh,  never  fear,"  cried  a  young  woman, 
"  she  hangs  there  every  day ;  she's  puttin'  purgatory 
over  her,  ma'am  ;  she  tells  her  mother  she  wont  live 
the  year,  and  she  does  it  for  penance,  lady."  "Ah  ! 
she's  a  wonderful  child,  that" — responded  my  guide, 
who  now  told  me  that  the  wonders  he  was  about  to 
relate  had  been  told  to  him  by  his  grandfather,  and 
might  be  all  believed.  An  enormous  stone  cross  stands 
here  for  the  benefit  of  single  persons,  who,  if  they  can 
embrace  it  backwards,  will  be  certain  of  a  partner 
within  a  year.  The  guide  told  us  he  had  done  so  to 
accommodate  gentlemen  who  had  visited  there,  and 
as  often  as  he  had  done  it,  his  wife  died,  till  he  had 
lost  five,  and  was  fairly  tired  out.  The  cathedral  is  a 
coarse  stone  building,  now  gone  to  decay,  and  but  a 
monument  of  what  it  once  was.  It  must  have  been  very 
strong,  but  small  and  dismal,  and  of  many  hundi'ed 
years  standing. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  describe  every  object  of  interest 
that  we  saw  among  the  ruined  churches,  of  which 
enough  remains  to  keep  alive  the  legends  of  the  super- 
stitious, and  the  curiosity  of  the  stranger.  The  very 
name  and  the  romance  connected  with  the  mountains, 
the  lakes  and  St.  Kevin's  bed,  will  continue  to  attract 
the  traveller.  The  stone  where  the  orphan  boy  stood 
daily,  and  was  fed  by  a  deer,  which  St.  Kevin  called 
from  the  mountains  to  shed  her  milk  into  a  hole  in  the 
stone  for  the  child,  still  remains,  and  you  are  shown  the 
marks  of  the  child's  fingers.  The  round  rock,  flat 
•upon  the  top,  under  which  a  fire  was  made,  which  St. 
Kevin  ordered  to  be  kept  hot  to  bake  the  cakes  of  King 
4 


74  CO.  OF  WICKLOW.  [chap.  iv. 

O'Toole,  is  also  pointed  out.  Among  the  good  deeds 
ascribed  to  the  saint  is  the  building  of  the  churches. 
Being  poor,  he  had  no  land  to  build  upon ;  King  O'- 
Toole owned  that  country,  and  St.  Kevin  had  fled  into 
a  cavern  which  overlooks  the  larger  lake,  to  avoid  the 
snares  of  the  beautiful  Kathleen.  Feeling  a  most  holy 
desire  to  establish  the  worship  of  God  in  these  moun- 
tains, he  applied  to  the  king  for  land.  The  king  had  a 
pet  goose,  which  had  stood  at  his  door  seven  years  with- 
out either  flying  or  walking  ;  and  he  told  the  saint  if  he 
would  make  his  goose  walk,  he  would  give  him  as  much 
land  as  she  would  fly  over.  The  saint  took  the  goose 
in  his  hand,  and  threw  her  up  in  the  air,  and  she  flew 
down  the  glen  upon  one  side  of  the  lakes,  and  up  the 
other.  Thus  the  whole  glen  became  the  saint's,  and 
next  comes  the  building  of  the  churches.  "  You  must 
know,"  said  my  guide,  "that  no  lark  flies  over  this 
glen,  nor  no  lamb  ever  lies  down  in  it."  When  these 
churches  were  building,  the  laborers  complained  that 
they  were  obliged  to  work  from  lark-rising  till  the  lying 
down  of  the  lamb  at  night,  for  a  penny  a  day.  St.  Ke- 
vin told  them  that  the  lark  should  never  fly  over  the  glen, 
nor  the  lamb  lie  down  on  it  again,  which  promise  has 
"been  kept  sacred,  and  these  lines  from  Moore  are  repeat- 
ed with  much  pathos : 

"  By  that  lake,  whose  gloomy  shore 
Sky-lark  never  warbled  o'er." 

The  two  lofty  mountains  which  overhang  these  lakes 
and  glens  were  once  visited  by  King  O'Toole  and  a  Scot- 
tish giant,  who  shook  hands  across  the  lake  ;  and  the 
king,  after  having  drunk  the  health  of  the  giant,  handed 
him  the  tumbler.  All  this  you  must  believe  if  you  arc 
not  a  downright  heretic,  and  this  is  but  a  beginning  of 
the  marvels.  There  are  a  few  realities  which  might  be 
worth  the  notice  of  the  traveller,  if  they  could  be  reached 
"beneath  the  rubbish  that  covers  them. 

Seven  churches  once  stood  here,  whether  all  built 
at  the  same  period  is  not  certainly  known  ;  if  so,  the 
spot  must  have  been  thickly  peopled  ;  but  when  these 


CHAP.  IV.]  CO.  OF  WICKLOW.  75 

people  lived,  and  how  tliey  subsisted  in  this  narrow 
glen,  is  a  mystery.  Two  majestic  mountains  overlook 
these  lakes  sleeping  at  their  base,  leaving  little  room  for 
cabins,  though  a  few  are  sprinkled  upon  the  border  of 
the  lakes  on  one  side.  By  the  side  of  a  moss-covered 
pile  of  stones,  which  was  one  of  the  churches,  was  an 
open  grave,  said  to  be  King  O 'Toole's.  The  head  of 
his  coffin,  which  was  stone,  lay  upon  the  ground,  the 
grave  having  been  opened  to  ascertain  whether  his  coffin 
were  there.  A  stone  cross  stood  upright,  bearing  marks 
of  ancient  workmanship.  At  the  bottom  of  this  monu- 
ment lay  a  moss-covered  stone,  with  carvings  of  serpents 
and  hieroglyphics. 

The  stranger  cannot  but  pause  and  reflect,  in  the 
midst  of  these  legends  and  foolish  superstitions ;  there 
must  have  been  here,  in  years  long  gone  by,  a  pecu- 
liar people,  a  people  if  not  literary  yet  religious,  who 
selected  this  deep  dell  for  the  purpose  of  adding  soli- 
tude to  their  devotions.  The  remains  of  seven  churches 
without  any  vestiges  of  dwelling-houses,  give  to  the 
whole  a  deeper  mystery.  Though  a  hot  July  sun  was 
shining  with  unusual  fervor,  a  subduing  stillness 
reigned  around  the  lake ;  and  one  green  spot  of  trees, 
wild  flowers,  and  grass,  through  which  ran  a  clear, 
soft  murmuring  stream,  added  a  romantic  beauty  to 
the  scene.  I  had  stolen  a  moment  from  my  gabbing 
interpreter,  to  enjoy  by  the  side  of  this  stream  a  little 
rest  and  reflection,  when  a  shrill  shout,  followed  by 
a  hideous  echo,  burst  upon  my  ear.  It  was  the  old 
barefooted  Kathleen,  who  has  acted  for  twenty  years 
as  a  guide  to  St.  Kevin's  bed,  and  who  carries  pre- 
sumptuous visitors  on  her  back  up  the  steep  and  dan- 
gerous cliff,  in  the  face  of  which  is  the  cave  where 
the  saint  had  lived.  Into  this  cave  she  assured  us  she 
had  carried  Walter  Scott,  Thomas  Moore,  and  many 
other  great  personages,  and  it  only  wanted  myself  to 
complete  the  list.  Assuring  her  that  I  had  not  the 
least  ambition  to  immortalize  my  name  by  a  ride  upon 
her  back,  and  a  tumble  into  the  lake  beneath,  from 
which  a  rescue  would  be  impossible,  I  left  the  honor 


76  CO.  OP  WICKLOW.  [chap.iv. 

to  such  as  miglit  better  deserve  it.  As  she  still  insist- 
ed, and  the  guide  added,  "  it  would  be  a  great  loss 
not  to  see  where  the  good  saint  lay,"  I  ventured  a 
little  way  up  the  steep,  and  was  glad  to  find  a  place 
for  my  sliding  feet  to  rest,  whilst  one  of  our  party,  an 
adventurous  young  woman,  went  on.  She  reached  the 
precipice,  and  placed  her  hand  on  the  shelving-stone 
that  covered  the  cave.  The  yawning,  black,  and  deep 
gulf  was  beneath  her,  and  the  slightest  jostle  might 
have  plunged  her  headlong.  Her  husband,  seeing  her 
presumption,  had  seated  himself  at  a  distance,  waiting 
the  fearful  event  in  silence  ;  and  for  myself,  I  turned 
not  a  look  in  that  direction,  fully  expecting  to  hear  a 
shriek  and  sudden  splash  into  the  lake  beneath.  In  a 
few  minutes  she  was  near  us ;  perspiration,  she  said, 
started  from  every  pore,  and  tears  streamed  from  her 
eyes,  as  she  found  herself  actually  hanging  by  the  rock 
over  the  precipice  ;  and  she  was  glad  to  be  again  by  the 
side  of  her  husband. 

Kathleen  returned,  redoubling  her  assurances  of  my 
safety,  if  I  would  trust  to  her  "  sure  fut  ;"  but  she  was 
forced  to  content  herself  with  giving  specimens  of  the 
strength  of  her  lungs,  while  the  mountains  returned  the 
screams  in  faithful  echoes.  My  guide  determined  not 
to  be  out-done,  and  he  screamed  out  exclamations  to 
the  giants  and  fairies,  who  all  answered  by  repeating 
the  same  distinctly.  We  saw  a  line  of  stones  cross  a  bog 
of  eighty  or  a  hundred  yards,  arranged  in  the  shape  of 
crosses,  where  pilgrims  in  more  holy  times  went  over 
upon  their  knees  doing  penance.  "  You  must  know, 
lady,  that  this  was  a  place  of  saints,"  remarked  our 
guide  solemnly.  Our  walk  was  now  interrupted  by 
a  line  made  across  our  path,  of  sweet-briar,  and  held 
at  each  end  by  two  little  girls.  Supposing  they  were 
at  play,  I  said,  "  You  are  jumping  the  rope."  "  No, 
ma'am,  it's  a  turnpike."  "  And  must  we  pay  toll  .^" 
"  If  you  plase,  lady."  We  had  three  of  these  turn- 
pikes to  pass  within  a  few  rods,  and  toll  was  required  at 
each.  This  was  a  contrivance  of  their  mothers  to  draw 
.^inoney. 


CHAP.  IV.]  CO.  OF  WICKLOW.  77 

It  is  difficult,  in  going  through  Ireland,  to  know 
wlietlier  to  be  disgusted  at  the  whining  cant  of  the 
beggars  to  move  your  pity,  or  provoked  at  their  de- 
ceitful impudent  efforts  to  extort  your  money.  And 
it  must  be  equally  difficult  for  beggars  to  demean  them- 
selves honorably  ;  if  they  appear  servile  and  religious, 
then  they  are  hypocrites ;  if  like  men  and  women 
transacting  other  business  in  life,  then  they  are  im- 
pudent. It  is  painful  to  see  the  cunning  arts  of  young 
children,  trained  from  the  cradle  to  beg,  when  the 
parents  are  not  honest.  But  it  is  well  for  Ireland  that 
its  paupers  in  general  are  not  a  dangerous  thieving 
race  ;  if  they  were,  they  are  so  numerous,  that  the  more 
favored  classes  would  never  be  secure.  When  we 
had  paid  toll  at  the  gates,  the  last  marvel  of  our  day 
was  shown  by  our  guide.  It  was  a  bush  over  a  round 
pool  of  water,  the  branches  tied  thickly  with  rags,  which 
had  been  used  for  washing  eruptions  upon  pilgrims. 
You  are  informed  that  St.  Kevin  blessed  this  pool,  and 
it  cures  all  who  wash  in  it.  A  few  more  fooleries  are 
practised  upon  the  credulous  visitor,  and  the  guide  dis- 
misses him  as  having  done  his  own  duty  well  ;  the 
stranger  has  only  to  believe.  When  all  was  finished,  I 
said,  ''  You  do  this  for  money,  sir."  "  I  get  my  bread 
by  it,  lady,  and  yesterday  [which  was  the  Sabbath]  I 
made  eight  shillings."  "  And  do  you  believe  one  word 
of  all  the  ridiculous  stuff  with  which  you  have  been 
cramming  us  .^"  "  I  tell  it,  lady,  as  I  heard  it."  "  But 
do  you  believe  it  yourself  .^"  He  looked  confounded, 
and  answered,  "No  :  but  I  made  only  one  story  to  fill 
up  the  time  as  we  were  passing  along." 

When  we  returned  to  the  inn,  a  devout-looking 
woman  met  us,  and  gravely  asked,  "  Have  you  washed 
in  St.  Kevin's  pool  ?  Depend  upon  it,  lady,  there  is 
the  greatest  vartue  in  it ;  it  cures  all  sorts  of  evils."  I 
replied  by  asking  her,  "  And  have  you  ever  washed  the 
wicked  one  himself.'"  Astonished,  she  looked  at  me, 
"  The  divil,  ma'am,  did  ye  mane  ?  The  divil  can't 
come  here.  This  is  the  place  of  saints."  One  of  the 
ladies  who  accompanied  me  said,  '*  You  have  lost  your 


78  CO.  OF  WICKLOW.  [chap.  iv. 

character  as  a  Christian,  and  they'll  want  no  more  of 
you  in  this  holy  place.  You  have  laughed  at  their 
money-making  lies,  and  no  one  ever  does  that  here. 
They  expected  you  to  receive  it  all  in  good  faith,  and  to 
admire  when  you  go  away  the  skilfulness  of  the  guide 
in  entertaining  you."  A  word  respecting  the  inn- 
keeper, a  fat  good-natured  mass,  tumbled  together  in 
not  the  most  scrupulous  manner,  but  as  incredulous 
respecting  the  holiness  of  the  spot  as  his  interests  would 
allow  him.  "  I  know  less  of  the  wonders  of  the  place," 
he  said,  "  than  those  that  visit  here  ;  but  as  people 
will  come,  I  will  entertain  them,"  which  he  did  in  a  most 
comfortable  manner,  and  at  a  moderate  price.  As  we 
were  going  out,  he  called  to  me,  and  gave  me  a  word 
of  advice.  "  Do  you,  madam,  publish  a  sketch  of  these 
wonders,  and  give  new  names  which  nobody  can  in- 
terpret, and  your  book  will  circulate  well  in  Ireland. 
But  be  sure  you  express  no  doubt  on  the  subject  your- 
self." 

Our  guide  was  no  novice  at  story-telling,  for  he  told 
my  friend  who  had  accompanied  us,  that  he  would  visit 
his  neighborhood,  and  entertain  him  any  evening  with 
stories,  as  soon  as  he  could  get  time  to  make  gome  good 
ones;  adding,  "This  is  my  business,  you  know,  but  I 
will  ask  you  nothing  as  you  brought  the  lady."  He 
had  been  twice  paid  for  his  bundle  of  lies  to  me  ;  my 
friend  feed  him  in  advance,  and  I  paid  at  the  close. 
This  ridiculous  farce,  practised  for  a  long  time,  loses 
little  of  its  interest  even  in  the  nineteenth  century. 
And  though  the  invention  is  attributed  to  Catholic  su- 
perstition, it  yet  meets  many  a  believing  heart  in  Protest- 
antism.    The  guide  called  himself  a  Protestant. 

On  our  return  we  ascended  the  serpentine,  closely 
swept  road,  that  conducts  the  traveller  through  the 
woody  enclosure  to  the  top  of  the  hill,  on  which  stands 
the  romantic  Castle  Howard,  looking  down  with  her 
evergreens  about  her  upon  the  beautiful  Vale  of  Ovoca. 
Nature  and  art  seem  here  to  have  done  their  utmost 
to  render  the  spot  not  only  grand  but  lovely.  The 
lady  of  the  castle  was  absent  on  a  fashionable  tour  to 


CHAP.  IV.]  CO.  OF  WICKLOW.  79 

England,  leaving  the  house-keeper  to  show  the  castle 
and  reap  the  benefit.  The  interior  is  fitted  up  with 
all  the  appendages  belonging  to  high  life,  dogs,  leo- 
pards, statues,  and  ornaments,  so  varied  that  nothing 
seemed  left  for  the  mind  to  supply,  but  the  placing  ia 
the  library  of  a  few  dozen  volumes  more  moral  in  ten- 
dency than  the  works  of  Voltaire. 

My  visit  to  the  county  of  Wicklow  being  finished,  I 
am  happy  to  say  that  both  country  and  people  exceeded 
my  sanguine  expectations.  The  natural  scenery,  the 
cultivation,  but  most  of  all  the  peasantry,  possess  a  kind 
of  fascination,  which  every  unprejudiced  traveller  must 
confess.  Many  of  the  peasantry  are  cleanly,  intelligent, 
and  industrious,  and  an  inviting  charm  hangs  about 
their  cottages,  which  says  to  the  stranger  there  is  peace 
and  comfort  within  ;  and  when  you  enter,  you  feel  you 
are  welcome.  The  Irish  greeting  cannot  be  misunder- 
stood ;  and  here  the  same  kindness  and  the  same  order 
prevailed  among  Catholics  as  among  Protestants.  I 
called  one  Saturday  evening  at  an  humble  cottage, 
where  the  children,  to  the  number  of  five,  all  took 
their  seats  unbidden  in  a  corner.  Their  neatness  and 
good  conduct  caused  me  to  look  about  more  particu- 
larly, and  there  I  saw  the  signs  of  a  prudent  wife  and 
mother.  ^'  You  see,"  said  the  young  ladies,  as  we 
passed  out,  "  the  management  of  this  poor  woman  ;  she 
is  always  clean,  always  comfortable,  and  her  children 
always  tidy,  though  poor."  They  had  been  kept  to 
school,  and,  by  the  strictest  economy,  the  family  had 
never  been  oblisied  to  trouble  their  neio;hbors  in  sick- 
ness,  ever  having  needful  supplies  for  such  exigen- 
cies, though  possessing  not  a  farthing  but  the  daily  la- 
bor of  the  father.  They  never  partake  of  tea,  cofi"ee,  or 
ardent  spirits  ;  or  meat,  except  at  Christmas. 

I  must  leave  Wicklow  with  a  grateful  remembrance 
of  underserved  kindness,  for  the  last  words  I  heard  were, 
"  My  house  shall  be  welcome  to  you  whenever  you 
come  this  way." 

When  leaving  New  York,  a  friend  said  to  me,  ^'  Give 
us  all  the  information  of  the  country  you  can  ;   but 


DUBLIN.  [CHAP.  IV. 


don't  touch  politics.  That  is  miserable  work  for  a 
woman."  But  I  soon  found  in  Ireland,  it  was  a  great 
misfortune  that  I  had  not  accjuaintcd  myself  more  with 
at  least  the  technicals  of  the  different  parties ;  many 
egregious  blunders  might  have  been  saved,  and  not  a 
word  need  have  been  spoken.  *'  You  had  better  take  the 
Radical  to  Dublin,"  said  a  man,  ^'  it  is  not  so  crowded 
as  the  Conservative  coach."  I  nodded  assent,  without 
knowing  the  coach  virtues  of  either  term,  as  applicable 
to  anything  in  my  case,  or  indeed  the  case  of  Ireland, 
as  I  have  since  known  it.  I  took  the  Radical,  was  well 
seated,  well  used,  and  found  my  journey  back  quite 
the  reverse  of  the  sad  and  savage  one  down.  These 
were  O'Connell-days,  and  this  Radical  was  a  repeal 
coach.  "  What  do  you  think  of  repeal.?"  said  a  well- 
dressed  gentleman ;  "as  I  never  had  the  pleasure  of 
seeing  an  American  lady  before  in  Ireland,  I  should 
like  to  know  her  opinion."  "  A  woman,  sir,  I  am  told, 
should  not  meddle  with  politics,  but  this  I  will  venture 
to  say,  that  Ireland  ought  to  be  redeemed  from  her 
"bondage,  and  whether  it  be  done  by  repeal  or  some 
other  instrument,  let  it  be  done."  This  man  was  a 
Roman  Catholic  priest ;  his  parish  including  the  fisher- 
men of  Arklow,  who  were  all  tetotalers,  not  one  having 
broken  his  pledge.  He  was  well  skilled  in  the  doctrines 
of  his  church,  but  complaisant  and  patient  under  con- 
tradiction ;  and  report  says  he  has  done  much  to  im- 
prove the  morals  and  the  condition  of  his  people.  When 
I  alighted,  I  was  determined  to  remember  the  Radical 
coach,  not  forgetting  the  kindness  of  the  driver. 

On  the  Monday  after  my  return  to  Dublin,  I  visited 
the  schools  originally  established  and  supported  by 
Lady  Harburton,  a  lady  of  great  fortune  and  benevo- 
lence. These  schools  do  much  honor  to  the  teachers, 
as  well  as  to  the  founder.  The  infant  school  numbers 
about  one  hundred  and  forty,  and  was  conducted  like 
those  I  had  been  accustomed  to  see  at  home.  Here 
was  a  school  of  little  boys,  instructed  in  the  Scriptures 
and  the  first  rudiments  of  geography ;  a  privilege 
which,  though  they  were  the  children  of  the  poor,  was 


CHAP,  IV.]  DUBLIN.  81 

not  denied  them,  as  in  Lady  Wicklow's  scliool.  The 
school  of  young  girls  was  as  good  in  arrangement  as  I 
had  ever  seen ;  order,  cleanliness,  and  attention  were 
strikingly  manifested.  The  superintendent  was  quite 
intelligent,  and  thorough  to  the  last  degree  in  all  her 
investigations.  The  reading,  examination  in  the  Scrip- 
tures, in  ancient  and  modern  geography,  arithmetic 
and  grammar,  showed  honorable  faithfulness  in  both 
teacher  and  pupil.  But  I  regretted  sincerely  the  se- 
verity of  the  superintendent.  A  little  more  tenderness 
mixed  with  her  rebukes,  I  could  not  but  think  would 
have  accomplished  as  much  good,  and  left  a  more 
favorable  impression  on  the  hearts  of  the  pupils. 
Goldsmith's  country  schoolmaster  did  not  more  richly 
deserve  the  character  of  a  petty  despot,  than  did  this 
otherwise  excellent  teacher,  for  if  of  him  it  might  be 
said, 

"Full  well  the  boding  tremblers  learned  to  trace 
The  clay's  disaster  in  his  morning  face ;" 

of  her  it  might  be  added, 

"Full  well  the  busy  whisper  circling  round, 
Convey'd  the  dismal  tidings  when  she  frown'd ;" 

for  her  frowns  were  the  preludes  to  heavy  blows. 

The  children  of  Catholics  composed  a  respectable 
part  of  the  school ;  and  if  this  were  a  fair  specimen  of 
schools  in  Ireland,  the  children  of  the  country  would 
have  no  claim  to  pity  on  the  subject  of  education. 


.^' 


82  THE  CANAL  BOAT.  [chap.  v. 


CHAPTER  V. 

The  Second  Cabin  of  a  Canal-Boat— Much  ado  about  Sixpence— A  Blind  Fiddler 
A  Jaunting  Car  Jaunt — Arrival  at  Kilkenny — Cordial  Hospitalit}' — Kilken- 
ny Beggars — Journey  to  Urlingford — A  Rural  Physician — Kidein  a  Turf  Kish 

The  Poor  Widow's  Welcome — A  Country  Dance — Departure  of  an  Emigrant 

Lamentations  thereupon— Kind  Reception  in  an  intelligent  Roman  Catholic 

Family— An  Irish  Wake— A  Faction— Fair  at  Urlingford— Costume  of  the 
Peasantry- Visit  to  a  National  School. 

On  the  following  Thursday  I  took  the  flj-boat  on 
my  way  to  Kilkenny.  When  I  went  to  Tnllamore,  I 
took  my  seat  in  the  first  cabin,  but  being  then  closely 
packed  with  a  stiff  company,  I  now  preferred  to  get  a 
comfortable  seat,  to  pay  less,  and  learn  more  of  Irish 
character  by  going  in  the  second  cabin.  The  two  last 
objects  were  realized,  and  what  was  lost  in  honor  was 
made  up  in  amusement,  for  Irish  wit  had  here  full 
play.  An  unfortunate  miss  from  Liverpool,  with  more 
tongue  than  brain,  opened  the  scene  by  telling  the 
captain  that  she  paid  more,  by  sixpence,  for  a  ride  in 
that  dirty  ditch,  than  for  crossing  the  raging  billows 
from  England ;  and  besides,  a  boy  in  the  cabin,  bigger 
that  she  was,  had  not  paid  so  much.  "  But,  miss,  if 
you  please,  it's  not  by  weight  but  by  age  we  go." 
*'Age!  indeed!  and  who  told  you  that  .^"  A  wag 
from  one  corner  of  the  boat  cried  out,  "and  'spose, 
captain,  you  take  a  look  of  the  two  jaws  on  the  two 
sides  of  the  tongue."  "  The  devil  a  bit  could  ye  gain 
by  that,"  answered  an  old  man,  '^  that  long  loose 
tongue  of  hers  would  fret  out  eleven  pair  of  teeth  before 
a  hair  could  turn  white  on  her  pate." 

The  battle  now  rose  high. 

*'  And  may -be  the  girl  would  stand  up  and  show 
how  long  she  is ;  and  if  but  a  slip,  she  must  surely 
have  on  leggins."  The  girl  was  instantly  on  her  feet. 
*'  There,  do  you  think  I  am  as  big  as  the  boy  .^"  "  And 
that  you  are,  rejoined  the  captain,  "  and  I  think  you 


CHAP,  v.]  THE  CANAL  BOAT.  83 

are  married."  This  she  positively  denied,  and  insisted 
on  the  sixpence.  "Will  nothing  else  do?"  said  the 
captain;  "  I  will  give  you  a  dinner  of  beef-steak,  and 
pay  all  expenses  of  whatever  you  may  choose."  "  And 
though,"  said  another,  "  you  may  have  had  breakfast, 
you  cannot  have  too  much  of  a  good  thing ;  and  if  you 
don't  choose  the  steak,  you  can  take  the  tay  and  toast." 
"  The  sixpence  is  all  I  want ;  the  sixpence  is  my  due  ; 
and  will  you,  captain,  give  me  the  sixpence  ?" 

A  fat  old  woman  sat  at  my  side,  guarding  an  enor- 
mous wallet  that  lay  at  her  feet,  with  two  huge  bonnets 
upon  her  head,  which,  though  by  their  material,  they 
might  have  been  modelled  some  ages  apart,  yet  by  dint 
of  bending  a  little  here,  and  widening  largely  there,  they 
so  exactly  fitted  that  they  might  be  said  to  be  of  the 
same  ton.  This  thrifty  manager  arose  in  all  the  ma- 
jesty of  matronly  experience,  and  made  her  way  through 
masses  of  legs  and  mountains  of  luggage,  till  she 
reached  the  clamorous  maiden,  who  was  still  standing, 
and  demanded  an  audience :  "  And  sure  the  like  of  ye 
couldn't  be  found  in  a  day's  walk  in  Ireland ;  and  can't 
ye  stop  your  bawlin'  about  a  paltry  sixpence  ?  and 
where's  the  mother  that  rair'd  such  a  scrawl  ?  If  she's 
out  of  the  ground,  why  didn't  she  keep  ye  under  her 
eye  till  ye  had  sinse.^'^  All  to  no  purpose  !  she  still 
insisted  on  the  sixpence.  "  Yer  a  fool,  and  ther's  no 
use  in  talkin."  "  And  do  you  think  she's  the  only 
woman  that's  a  fool  .^"  answered  an  old  man  who  had 
been  snoring  in  the  corner.  An  old  grey-haired  blind 
fiddler  now  entered  the  boat.  This  gave  a  new  and 
interesting  turn  to  the  scene.  All  eyes  were  intent, 
and  all  ready  to  sit  closer,  and  huddle  away  baggage, 
to  make  a  '^  dacent  sate  "  for  the  fiddler.  The  old 
woman  resumed  her  position  at  my  side,  and  the  blind 
man  took  the  fiddle  from  his  gi'een  bag,  and  played  a 
melancholy  air  of  true  ancient  Irish.  He  was  a  good 
performer,  and  though  he  played  some  lively  airs,  yet 
to  me  he  seemed  not  to  be  at  home,  but  gave  them  be- 
cause he  must.  That  meek  subdued  look,  which 
always  sits  on  the  face  of  the  blind,  was  emphatically 


84  THE  CANAL  BOAT.  [chap.  v. 

his  ;  old,  and  trembling  with  age,  he  commanded  ve- 
neration, while  his  blindness  awoke  both  the  pity  and 
benevolence  of  the  passengers.  They  gladly  responded 
to  the  call  of  a  youth,  who  said,  "  If  you  plase,  old  man, 
hand  out  your  plate  ;  'tis  time  for  a  collection."  The 
fiddler  drew  from  his  thread-bare  vest  pocket  a  little 
tin  plate,  which  the  young  man  passed  about,  and  a  few 
shillings  were  put  into  the  hands  of  the  thankful  mu- 
sician, who  was  then  set  on  shore  to  make  his  way  to  an 
appointment  for  the  evening.  These  blind  fiddlers  are 
somewhat  numerous,  especially  in  the  south  of  Ireland, 
and  are  treated  with  great  humanity  by  all  classes. 

The  Liverpool  girl,  who  seemed  a  little  composed 
while  the  fiddler  was  performing,  now  reminded  us 
that  the  predominant  wish  had  not  yet  died,  for  she 
remarked,  ''  The  sixpences  were  so  plenty  here  for  the 
fiddler,  I  should  think  you  might  give  me  back  mine 
that  the  captain  took  from  me."  We  now  reached 
Athy,  and  happy  was  I  to  exchange,  the  tedious  maid 
for  a  seat  on  the  novel  Irish  car,  with  a  genteel  young 
lady  on  one  side,  going  to  Kilkenny.  The  rain  com- 
menced, which  deprived  me  of  seeing  the  country  as  I 
wished ;  but  troops  of  ragged  urchins,  who  rushed 
from  the  national  school,  and  from  every  cabin  we 
passed,  made  up  the  deficiency.  I  was  sitting  alone, 
and  succeeded,  unperceived  by  the  driver,  in  beckoning 
three  of  them  upon  the  car.  Their  ready  answers 
fsolved  all  my  questions  about  the  country,  for  what 
Paddy  left  out,  Micky  could  supply,  and  they  manifest- 
ed none  of  that  rudeness  which  is  so  often  met  among 
city  boys.  We  passed  a  barren  spot  of  country,  but 
were  soon  repaid  by  here  and  there  a  rich  domain, 
tenanted  by  some  grasping  landlord,  who  kept  the  poor 
about  him  cringing  for  a  day's  work  at  sixpence  or 
eightpence  a  day.  A  Protestant  gentleman  joined  the 
lady  on  the  other  side  of  the  car;  he  was  a  talking 
noviciate,  just  entered  upon  his  charge.  He  left  in  a 
few  miles,  and  a  Roman  Catholic  clergyman,  grave  in 
demeanor,  supplied  his  place.  The  young  lady  had 
the  exclusive  privilege  of  both,  and  my  little,  civil,  and 


CHAP,  v.]  CO.  OF  KILKENNY.  85 

profitable  companions  left  the  car  at  tlie  beautiful  town 
of  Castlecomer. 

We  reached  Kilkenny,  and  the  young  lady  left  the 
ear  without  bidding  me  a  cold  good-bye.  In  a  moment 
she  returned  with  the  lady  of  the  house,  who  in  a  most 
pleasant  manner  said,  "  Come  in,  you  are  an  American 
stranger ;  come  in,  and  take  tea  with  us,  and  I  will  send 
a  servant  with  you  to  your  lodgings."  Joyfully  I  ac- 
cepted the  offer,  and  found  within  a  well-ordered  taste- 
fully-arranged house,  and  the  mistress  a  highly  accom- 
plished widow,  who  had  beeen  reared  in  affluence,  edu- 
cated in  the  best  manner,  and  was  then  engaged  in 
teaching.  The  piano  and  the  harp,  the  ancient  boast 
of  Ireland's  better  days,  were  there,  and  the  lady,  who 
had  been  educated  in  a  convent,  knew  well  how  to 
touch  the  heart  by  her  melody.  Her  two  little  daugh- 
ters, who  were  but  children,  did  honor  to  .her  who  had 
trained  them  with  a  skilful  hand.  Never  had  I  seen 
high  birth,  beauty,  and  noble  intellectual  attainments 
more  happily  blended  with  a  meek  and  quiet  spirit  than 
in  this  accomplished  woman.  Though  she  was  a  Roman 
Catholic,  yet  the  higher  class  of  Protestants  were  anx- 
ious to  place  their  daughters  under  her  care  ;  with  this 
proviso,  that  a  Protestant  clergyman  should  visit  there 
weekly,  and  give  religious  instruction ;  and  that  each 
day,  when  prayers  were  read  in  the  schoolroom,  the  Pro- 
testant children  should  retire. 

The  next  day,  as  I  entered  the  parlor,  the  young  Pro- 
testants were  passing  in,  while  the  Catholics  were  pray- 
ing above — a  very  accommodating  arrangement  to  keep 
both  religions  from  contamination. 

Being  obliged  to  leave  that  day,  I  can  say  little  of 
Kilkenny,  only  that  the  streets  were  narrow,  and  the 
beggars  as  saucy  as  elsewhere,  demanding  a  penny 
after  a  positive  refusal.  The  coachman  and  waiters 
were  more  rapacious  than  any  I  had  seen  ;  one  posi- 
tively demanded  payment  for  opening  the  lid  of  the 
coach-boot,  and  dropping  in  a  small  carpet-bag.  Six 
beggars  accosted  me  at  once,  passing  five  other  per- 
sons who  were    on   the  car,  till  my  patience  was  ex- 


feG  CO.  OF  KILKENNY.  [chap.  v. 

clianged  for  disgust.  What  a  disgraceful  state  of 
tilings,  that  a  body  of  people  should  become  public 
nuisances,  when  there  has  been  no  famine  nor  pestilence 
in  the  land,  and  where  the  rich  soil  might  well  reward 
the  husbandman,  if  the  government  were  suited  to  its 
condition. 

We  set  off  for  Urlingford  with  a  car  so  loaded,  that 
none  but  Irishmen  would  have  suffered  the  inconve- 
nience patiently.  I  was  going  to  Urlingford  to  visit  the 
parents  of  nine  servant  girls  who  had  lived  with  me  in 
New  York,  all  from  one  parish,  though  of  different 
families  ;  and  when  within  five  miles  of  the  place,  I 
asked  th.e    driver  if    he  knew  a  widow  of    the    name 

of .      A  commonly-dressed  man,  seated   on 

the  luggage  above  my  head,  stooped  down  and  whis- 
pered, "  Are  you  not  Mary  H's  mistress  .^"  I  answer- 
ed in  the  affirmative,  and  he  made  such  an  outcry  that 
coachman  and  passengers  entreated  to  know  what  could 
bewitch  the  man.  He  alarmed  me,  he  shook  me, 
and  called  me  all  manner  of  good  names,  regretting 
that  he  was  a  tetotaler,  that  he  could  not  "  trate" 
me,  that  the  parish  had  looked  for  me  till  their  hearts 
were  broke.  His  volubility  never  ceased  till  we 
reached  Johnstown,  where  the  car  left  us,  leaving  a 
walk  of  more  than  two  miles,  to  my  destination.  Here 
a  raspberry  cordial  was  presented  to  me,  and  we  passed 
through  the  little  village,  followed  by  men,  women, 
and  children,  who  were  all  told  by  my  gallant  that 
I  was  Mary  H.'s  mistress.  Each  one  proffered  the 
hand,  saying  "  welcome,  welcome  to  Ireland."  W^e 
entered  the  house  of  a  man  calling  himself  a  doctor, 
who  showed  us  to  a  beautiful  garden,  when  he 
whispered  in  the  ear  of  my  friend,  that  he  wished  the 
privilege  of  removing  a  wart  from  my  face.  I  supposed 
some  of  his  medicinal  herbs  were  to  be  the  medicine.  I 
declined  for  the  present,  when  he  assured  me  it  was 
by  saying  a  few  words  over  the  wart  that  he  could  re- 
move it,  my  guide  testifying  that  he  had  known  many 
a  cure  in  the  same  way.  I  begged  the  miracle  might 
be  deferred  till  I  could  call  again,  and  he  then  insisted 


CHAP,  v.]  CO.  OF  KILKENNY.  87 

I  should  wait  and  be  sent  in  his  car.  Assuring  him 
the  walk  would  be  pleasant,  we  passed  out,  and  were 
invited  into  a  smoky  cabin,  and  I  went  through  the 
etceteras  of  an  Irish  welcome.  The  doctor's  car  ar- 
rived, and  proved  to  be  a  dray,  with  a  peat-kish  upon 
it.  To  me  it  was  a  curiosity.  I  had  seen  the  country- 
women returning  from  selling  peat,  cowering  in  one  of 
these  vehicles,  but  never  expected  to  be  so  elevated  my- 
self ;  but  elevated  I  was,  sitting  upon  the  bottom,  my 
back  to  the  horse,  and  my  companion  in  like  condition 
by  my  side. 

And  now  began  my  cabin  life.  I  had  read  with  the 
deepest  interest,  in  the  writings  of  Charlotte  Elizabeth, 
that  the  peasantry  of  the  county  of  Kilkenny  were  unri- 
valled in  kindness  ;  but  burning  words  from  graphic 
pens  would  faintly  delineate  what  I  there  experienced 
from  that  interesting  people. 

We  reached  our  destination,  and  alighting  from  the 
kish,  I  was  told,  for  the  honor  of  the  spot,  that  here, 
some  two  hundred  years  ago,  lived  a  noble  lord  who  had 
twenty  noble  sons.  With  these  he  daily  rode  out, 
with  each  an  attendant,  on  twenty  noble  horses,  all 
shod  with  silver  shoes.  I  was  desired  to  stay  out- 
side till  the  way  should  be  prepared  for  my  recep- 
tion. In  a  moment  I  was  ushered  in  as  a  "  fine  gal  he 
had  found  in  Kilkenny."  J'he  family  were  sitting  at 
their  supper  of  potatoes  and  buttermilk,  around  a  na- 
ked deal  table,  upon  which  the  potatoes  were  poured. 
The  widow,  two  grown  up  sons,  and  a  grandson,  con- 
stituted the  group  ;  and  when  I  was  seated,  all  for  a 
moment  were  silent.  "  This  is  Mary's  mistress,"  said 
my  companion.  Simultaneously  every  potato  was 
dropped,  all  rose,  and  with  a  kind  of  unaffected  dig- 
nity reached  me  the  hand,  saying,  "  Welcome  to  our 
cabin  !"  They  then  sat  down,  and  all  was  silent  again. 
"  We've  been  long  waitin'  for  ye,"  said  the  mother, 
"  and  was  in  dread  that  ye  might  be  lost ;  but  ye  must 
be  wairy  and  in  want  of  the  tay."  I  assured  her  that 
a  potato  would  be  a  greater  relish.  "  Ye  can't  ate  the 
potato,"  said  she,  the  sons  joining  ia  the  assertion, 


88  CO.  OF  KILKENNY.  [chap.  v. 

till  by  actual  experiment,  I  soon  convinced  them  to 
the  contrary.  The  reader  should  be  informed  that  the 
daughter  of  this  widow  had,  in  three  years  service  at 
my  house,  sent  home  ^40,  which  had  not  only  kept  her 
mother  in  tea  and  bread,  but  had  given  them  all  the 
"blessed  tobacco"  besides.  "She  had  been  home," 
the  old  woman  told  me,  "  on  a  visit,  and  made  such  an 
overturnin'  in  the  cabin  that  they  had  like  to  be  de- 
stroyed ;  not  a  hap'orth  of  a  pig,  duck,  or  hen,  could 
take  it's  bit  in  the  place  ;  not  a  straw  could  be  left  upon 
the  flure  in  the  mornin' ;  and  now,"  she  added,  "  we 
will  all  be  kilt  if  ye  have  not  a  clane  bed  and  a  nice  bit 
to  ate."  To  do  her  justice,  her  place  was  cleanly, 
although  two  comely  pigs  that  were  fattening  for  the 
fair,  and  a  goodly  number  of  turkeys  and  ducks  took 
their  repast  in  the  cabin  on  the  remains  of  the  supper. 

My  bedstead  was  behind  the  cupboard,  in  the 
kitchen,  meeting  the  wall  on  one  side  and  the  cupboard 
on  the  other,  with  a  little  aperture  at  the  head 
for  an  entrance.  This  was  the  widow's  bed-room, 
and  here,  upon  a  soft  feather-bed,  I  was  put ;  but  the 
sheet,  the  sheet, — a  married  daughter  had  taken  her 
clothes  to  wash,  and  she  must  put  me  in  one  she  had 
used  herself.  She  was  greatly  troubled.  Giving 
her  all  the  comfort  in  my  power  on  the  subject,  she 
bade  me  good  night ;  and  though  I  would  not  wish 
the  reader  ever  to  be  packed  in  feathers  in  such  a  nar- 
row box  in  a  hot  August  night,  yet  I  am  not  unwilling 
that  he  should  know  that  my  first  night  in  a  cabin,  with 
all  its  concomitants,  was  a  sleepless  one,  and  one  which 
can  never  be  forgotten.  The  dawning  of  light  found 
the  good  woman  stealthily  peeping  around  the  cup- 
board, and  with  a  shake  of  the  head,  I  heard  her 
whisper,  "  Ah  !  she  didn't  lie  down  in  her  bed,  the 
cratur."  She  crept  to  the  hearth,  made  her  peat-fire, 
swept  every  vestige  of  dirt  from  the  earthen  floor,  and 
sat  down  to  smoke.  Her  sons  soon  joined  her,  each 
in  his  turn  taking  a  "  blast  at  the  pipe,"  and  then 
walked  slowly  out,  "  for,"  said  the  mother,  "  she's 
wairy,  and  a  fut  of  ye  mustn't  be  movin'."    That  day 


CHAP,  v.]  CO.  OF  KILKENNY.  89 

was  a  memorable  one.  In  this  parish  lived  a  young 
married  girl  who  had  been  a  servant  in  my  house  in 
New  York  ;  she  had  retm-ned  and  was  living  a  mile 
distant ;  she  had  been  aroused  at  midnight  by  the  man 
who  conducted  me  to  the  parish,  and  early  the  next 
morning  she  was  at  the  door.  Anne  was  young,  hand- 
some, and  tidy,  and  had  been  a  great  favorite  in  my 
house.  I  was  a  little  concealed  when  she  entered, 
and  did  not  recognize  her  till  she  fell  on  my  neck  and 
wept.  "  Ah  !  and  it's  ye  that  may  bawl,  when  yer 
two  eyes  meet  the  one  that  took  you  a  slip,  and  made 
ye  the  thriftiest  woman  for  the  man  that  owns  ye  in 
all  the  parish."  Anne  spoke  not,  nor  could  she  for 
some  time.  "  And  do  I  see  you  ?  and  what  can  we 
do  for  you  in  this  humble  place  ?  John  is  waiting  to 
see  you,  but  would  not  come  with  me,  till  I  had  seen 
you  first."  "Ah!  and  John's  the  lad  that's  caught 
the  claue  bird."  "  What  shall  we  do  for  you  .^"  was 
again  the  question.  "  You  cannot  stay  in  our  cabins  ; 
they  are  not  fitting  ;  you  must  com^e  with  me  ;  I  know 
best  what  you  want,  and  will  get  what  you  say." 
The  whole  parish  was  now  in  a  stir,  work  was  sus- 
pended, and  a  general  levee  held.  They  talked  of 
building  bonfires  ;  they  talked  of  uniting  and  buying 
a  sheep  to  kill,  though  not  one  had  eaten  a  dinner  of 
flesh  since  Christmas.  The  grey-headed  and  the  little 
child  were  there  to  welcome  me,  to  thank  me  for 
''  thinking  of  the  like  of  such  poor  bodies,"  and  from 
some  miles  around  visitors  called  before  the  setting  of 
the  sun  to  look  at  the  American  stranger,  and  bid  her 
God  speed.  "  What  will  she  ate,  the  cratur  ?  it's  not 
the  potato  that  raired  her."  Two  children  begged  the 
honor  of  going  seven  miles  in  quest  of  fruit,  and  went. 
Night  and  rain  overtook  them,  yet  they  persevered, 
slept  away  through  the  night,  and  cheerfully  returned 
the  next  day  with  two  pears  and  a  spoonful  of  black- 
berries, which  was  all  they  could  procure.  All  went 
away  sorrowful  that  so  "  nice  a  body  should  be  so 
trated,"  and  all  asked  me  to  visit  their  cabins,  "  though 
they  were  not  fittin'  for  such  a  lady." 


90  CO.  OF  KILKENNY.  [chap.  v. 

The  next  morning  Anne  again  called  to  invite  me  to 
her  house,  and  to  say  she  had  been  sent  by  a  few  in  the 
parish,  to  invite  me  to  attend  a  field  dance  which  was 
to  be  on  the  next  day,  and  the  Sabbath.  In  surprise  I 
was  about  to  answer,  when  Anne  said,  "  I  knew  you 
would  not,  and  told  them  so,  but  they  begged  I  would 
say  that  they  had  no  other  day,  as  all  were  at  work, 
and  sure  God  wouldn't  bo  hard  upon  'em,  when  they 
had  no  other  time,  and  could  do  nothing  else  for  the 
stranger."  I  thanked  them  heartily  for  their  kind  feel- 
ings, and  declined.  Judge  my  confusion,  when  about 
sunset  on  Sabbath  evening,  just  after  returning  from 
Johnstown,  where  I  had  attended  church,  the  cabin  door 
opened,  and  a  crowd  of  all  ages  walked  in,  decently 
attired  for  the  day,  and  without  the  usual  welcomes  or 
any  apology,  the  hero  who  first  introduced  me  seated 
himself  at  my  side,  took  out  his  flute,  wet  his  fingers, 
saying,  "  This  is  for  you,  Mrs.  N.,  and  what  will  you 
have  ?"  A  company  were  arranged  for  the  dance,  and 
so  confounded  was  1  that  my  only  answer  was,  "  I  can- 
not tell."  He  struck  up  an  Irish  air,  and  the  dance 
began.  I  had  nothing  to  say,  taken  by  sui'prise  as  I 
was  ;  my  only  strength  was  to  sit  still. 

This  dance  finished,  the  eldest  son  of  my  hostess 
advanced,  made  a  low  Idow,  and  invited  me  to  lead  the 
next  dance.  I  looked  on  his  glossy  black  slippers,  his 
blue  stockings  snugly  fitted  up  to  the  knee,  his  cor- 
duroys above  them,  his  blue  coat  and  brass  buttons, 
and  had  no  reason  to  hope  that,  at  my  age  of  nearly 
half  a  century,  I  could  ever  expect  another  like  offer. 
However  I  was  not  urged  to  accept  it.  Improper  as  it 
might  appear,  it  was  done  as  a  civility,  which,  as  a 
guest  in  his  mother's  house  and  a  stranger,  he  thought, 
and  all  thought  (as  I  was  afterwards  told)  he  owed  me. 
The  cabin  was  too  small  to  contain  the  three  score  and 
ten  who  had  assembled,  and  with  one  simultaneous 
movement,  without  speaking,  all  rushed  out,  bearing 
me  along,  and  placed  me  upon  a  cart  before  the  door, 
the  player  at  my  right  hand.  And  then  a  dance  began, 
which,  to  say  nothing  of  the  day,  was  to  me  of  no 


CHAP,  v.]  CO.  OF  KILKENNY.  91 

ordinary  kind.  Not  a  laugh — not  a  loud  word  was 
heard  ;  no  affected  airs,  which  the  young  are  prone  to 
assume  ;  but  as  soberly  as  though  they  were  in  a  fune- 
ral procession,  they  danced  for  an  hour,  wholly  for  my 
amusement,  and  for  my  welcome.  Then  each  ap- 
proached, gave  me  the  hand,  bade  me  God  speed, 
leaped  over  the  style,  and  in  stillness  walked  away. 
It  was  a  true  and  hearty  Irish  welcome,  in  which  the 
aged,  as  well  as  the  young,  participated.  A  matron  of 
sixty,  of  the  Protestant  faith,  was  holding  by  the  hand 
a  grandchild  of  seven  years,  and  standing  by  the  cart 
where  I  stood  ;  and  she  asked  when  they  had  retired, 
if  I  did  not  enjoy  it  ?  "  What  are  these  wonderful 
people  .^"  was  my  reply.     I  had  never  seen  the  like. 

I  visited  the  dwelling  of  Anne,  and  found  her  with 
many  little  comforts  not  common  to  her  class.  "  Why 
do  you  not  wear  a  bonnet?"  I  inquired.  "I  came 
back,"  she  replied,  *'  from  New  York  to  live  in  a  cabin, 
and  I  must  not  put  myself  above  others  who  associate 
^Tith  me."  John  was  industrious  and  thrifty,  and  proud 
of  a  visit  from  the  mistress  of  the  girl  who  had  come 
froLU  the  other  side  of  the  waters.  Twice,  while  in  the 
parish,  a  cleanly-dressed  woman  called  to  see  me,  but 
did  noi;  invite  me  to  her  cabin,  because,  she  said,  she 
would  bo  ashamed  to  do  so,  though  she  really  wished 
me  to  go.  I  was  told  of  it,  and  the  third  time  she 
called,  I  askti  her  if  I  might  accompany  her  home.  She 
was  delighted,  and  said,  "  I  was  in  dread  to  ask  ye, 
but  was  ashamed."  Her  cabin  was  perfect  neatness. 
At  night,  under  pretence  of  getting  a  bucket  of  water 
at  a  distant  spring,  she  walked  an  Irish  mile  to  buy  a 
penny  roll  of  coarse  bread  for  me — a  loaf  of  bread  she 
had  not  seen  in  her  cabin  that  summer.  Slipping  it 
into  my  hand,  she  said,  "  Don't  let  William  know  it,  or  I 
must  tell  where  I  got  the  penny."  I  called  at  the  hum- 
blest place  I  had  ever  seen  one  morning,  and  found  a 
poor  widow  and  her  daughter  eating  their  potatoes.  I 
went  out,  and  soon  reached  a  running  stream  so  deep 
that  I  could  not  cross  without  wading.  While  I  hesi- 
tated what  to  do,  the  widow  called  after  me,  "  Stop, 


93  CO.  OF  KILKENNY.  [chap.  v. 

lady,  and  I'll  carry  ye  on  my  back  ;  ye'll  be  destroyed." 
She  had  pulled  off  her  shoes  and  stockings  in  her  hut, 
and  ran  after  me,  and  though  small  in  stature,  yet  she 
assured  me  she  was  "  strong,  and  sure  on  the  fut,"  and 
could  carry  me  safely.  I  positively  refused  such  a  com- 
pliment from  grey  hairs,  and  with  great  difficulty  turned 
her  back,  and  went  myself  in  another  direction. 

A  sister  of  Anne's  was  about  setting  off  for  New 
York  to  look  for  service.  Two  brothers  and  two  sisr 
ters  had  previously  gone  there,  and  succeeded  well. 
She  was  to  go  with  three  others  at  ten  o'clock  in  the 
evening,  for  Dublin.  The  time  arrived,  and  the 
whole  parish,  young  men  and  maidens,  aged  men 
and  children,  had  assembled.  For  an  hour  previous 
all  was  silent.  The  hour  drew  near,  the  girl  arose, 
flung  herself  upon  the  neck  of  a  young  companion, 
and  gave  a  most  piteous  howl.  It  was  reciprocated  by 
the  other,  who  cried,  ^'  Aw,  Kitty,  will  ye  crass  the 
wide  ocean,  and  will  we  never  again  dance  in  the 
field  ?  O  my  darlin,  my  comrade,  and  why  will  ye  go  } 
O  ho  !  and  what  will  we  do  .^"  Kisses  and  sobs  sup- 
pressed further  utterance.  The  aged  mother  then 
approached.  "  O  mavourneen,  and  why  do  ye  hreak 
the  heart  of  her  who  raired  ye  ?  Was  there  no  turf 
in  the  bog — no  pratees  in  the  pit — that  ye  l^ave  the 
hairth  of  yer  poor  ould  mother  .''  O  my  darlin',  my  only 
vourneen,  and  it's  nine  of  ye  I've  raired,  and  as  soon 
as  yer  heels  are  out  of  the  ashes,  ye  run  uway  from  me, 
my  darlin'.  And  what  will  ye  do  in  the  wilds  of 
America.^"  She  clapped  her  hands,  and  cried,  "My 
darlin',  my  fair  hair'd  darlin',  and  was  it  for  this  I 
raired  ye  .^"  The  howling  now  became  louder ;  one 
after  another  arose,  and  united  in  the  lamentation. 
Then  a  man  from  the  midst  cried  out,  "  And  be  gone 
from  the  house,  and  stop  your  bawlin' ;  ye  go  to  sarve 
yourselves,  and  why  do  ye  bawl  about  the  thing  that's 
yer  own  choosin'.^"  He  elevated  a  stick  he  had  in  his 
hand,  and  made  a  signal  towards  the  door.  All  rushed 
forth,  following  the  girls  to  the  car,  and  the  burst  was 
more   violent — the   welkin   resounded   with    bowlings, 


CHAP,  v.]  CO.  OF  KILKENNY.  93 

while  the  motlier  sat  down  in  the  corner  upon  a  bench, 
clapping  her  hands,  rocking  her  body,  and  muttering, 
"  O,  aw,  my  fair  hair'd  little  girl,  and  why  did  I  say  ye 
might  go  ?  Ah,  fool  that  I  was,  and  these  ould  eyes 
will  never  see  ye  again.  Ye'r  gone,  my  girl,  mavour- 
neen,  my  darlin'." 

An  invitation  had  been  sent  me  from  Urlingford  to 
visit  a  family  of  respectability,  a  son  of  which  was  in 
New  York.  This  invitation  introduced  me  to  the 
families  of  the  gentry,  some  of  whom  I  found  intelli- 
gent, and  all  hospitable  and  well  bred.  In  the  family 
of  a  flourishing  shop-keeper  I  passed  many  pleasant 
and  profitable  days.  The  man  had  thought  of  many 
things  besides  selling  broad-ck)ths  and  muslins,  though 
he  had  made  quite  a  fortune  by  that.  They  were  Ro- 
man Catholics  ;  unwavering  in  their  opinions,  but  not 
illiberal  to  those  who  differed  from  them.  A  Bible 
was  in  the  house,  and  presented  to  me  whenever  I 
might  wish  to  use  it.  I  was  present  more  than  once 
when  the  family  were  assembled  at  evening  for  prayers, 
and  they  kindly  said,  "  We  will  not  ask  you  into  the 
room,  as  it  might  be  unpleasant ;  we  wish  every  person 
to  enjoy  his  religion  in  his  own  way." 

In  this  family  I  attended  a  wake,  the  first  T  had  seen 
in  Ireland.  An  aged  woman,  the  mother  of  the  shop- 
keeper, died  while  I  was  there  ;  ninety  years  had  whi- 
tened her  locks  ;  she  had  been  a  useful  mother,  trained 
her  children  to  habits  of  industry,  and  lived  to  see  them 
thriving  in  business,  and  respected  in  the  world.  On 
her  tongue  had  been  the  law  of  kindness,  and  her  hands 
were  always  stretched  out  to  the  poor  and  needy. 
When  I  visited  the  house  of  her  son,  feeble  as  she  was, 
she  would  leave  her  chamber,  and  go  into  the  kitchen 
to  take  care  that  my  dinner  was  suited  to  my  taste. 
The  workmen  in  the  house  were  her  peculiar  care. 
From  many  miles  round  the  rich  and  the  poor  assem- 
bled. "  Never,"  said  one,  ''  when  I  was  a  slip  of  a  boy, 
did  I  go  on  a  mornin'  to  buy  the  loaf  at  her  shop,  but 
she  put  a  bit  of  bread  in  my  hand  to  ate  on  my  way 
home."     She  was  laid  in  an  upper  chamber,  upon  a 


94  CO.  OF  KILKENNY.  [chap.  v. 

"bed  covered  with  white  ;  she  was  dressed  in  a  dark 
Tbrown  frock,  with  white  ruffles  at  the  wrist  ;  a  square 
cloth  fringed  with  white  was  on  her  breast,  with  the 
initials  of  the  order  of  the  "  Blessed  Virgin,''  to  which 
she  belonged.  A  neat  white  cap,  with  black  ribbon, 
and  a  white  handkerchief  about  her  neck  finished  the 
dress.  Curtains  of  white,  tied  with  black  ribbons,  were 
about  her  bed  ;  and  the  usual  appendages  of  candles 
and  consecrated  clay  were  at  the  foot,  with  a  picture  of 
the  Virgin  and  Child  hanging  over  her  head.       • 

The  house  was  large  ;  every  room  was  occupied,  and 
though  the  attendants  were  gathering  from  neighbor- 
ing parishes  through  the  night,  yet  all  was  stillness. 
"  In  former  days,"  whispered  an  aged  matron,  "  ye 
would  not  see  it  so  ;  before  Father  Mathew  put  down 
the  whiskey,  it  would  frighten  the  life  of  ye.  A  bucket 
of  whiskey  would  be  on  the  flure,  with  a  cup  in  it,  and 
not  a  sowl  on  'em  but  would  take  tho  sup  till  their  brain 
would  be  crack'd  ;  and  then  the  singin',  the  jum- 
pin',  and  tearin',  till  the  priest  would  be  called  in  with 
his  whip,  and  bate  'em,  the  divils,  till  they  all  was 
quiet."  Here  was  no  liquor,  but  cordials  ;  a  warm 
supper  in  the  different  rooms  was  prepared,  and  every 
new  guest  was  invited  to  sit  down  and  partake.  Here 
the  rich  and  the  poor  had  "  met  together"  to  mingle 
their  tears,  and  not  an  untidy  garment  pained  the  eye. 
The  hour  of  burial  was  six  in  the  morning.  At  five, 
a  breakfast  of  steak,  ham,  and  fowl  was  provided  for 
the  nearer  friends,  and  those  who  w^ere  to  accompany 
the  corpse  seven  miles,  where  it  was  to  be  interred. 
The  corpse  was  then  put  into  a  coffin  of  black,  with 
the  consecrated  clay  about  it,  and  was  placed  upon  the 
bed  ;  the  family  came  in,  and  gave  her  the  parting  kiss  ; 
one  servant,  who  had  been  a  laborer  about  the  pre- 
mises for  years,  went  to  the  coffin,  looked  at  her  for  a 
moment,  kissed  her,  then  covered  his  face  with  both 
hands,  and  burst  into  loud  weeping.  "  Well  may  he 
cry,  poor  Pat !"  said  a  servant  girl,  ''  for  many  a  good 
bit  has  he  had  from  her  hand ;  and  when  I  come  to 
the  side  of  her  bed  a  few  days  ago,  she  said,  '  Do  take 


CHAP,  v.]  CO.  OF  KILKENNY.  95 

care  of  poor  Pat,  and  see  that  lie  has  enough  to  eat. 
I  am  afraid  he  will  be  neglected  when  I  am  gone.'" 
Poor  Pat  was  simple.  These  testimonials  of  kindness 
to  the  poor  are  precious  mementos  of  the  dead,  and  will 
be  held  in  sweet  remembrance,  while  the  memory  of  the 
oppressor  shall  rot. 

The  white  linen  was  taken  from  about  the  bed, 
pinned  over  the  heads  of  the  old  women,  and  tied  in 
the  middle  of  their  backs  by  black  ribbon ;  the  coffin 
was  placed  upon  the  body  of  a  carriage,  and  the  two  old 
women  were  seated  upon  it.  The  driver,  with  a  band 
of  white  linen  about  his  hat,  led  on  the  long  proces- 
sion. It  was  a  Sabbath  morning ;  the  sun  was  rising ; 
I  thought  of  the  sepulchre  ;  I  thought  of  the  women 
that  were  early  there  ;  I  saw  the  stone  that  was  rolled 
away  ;  I  looked  in  ;  I  saw  the  clean  linen  in  which 
Joseph  had  wrapped  the  body  :  I  knew  the  Saviour 
had  risen,  and  I  turned  away  to  think  of  the  wake  at 
Kilkenny. 

Saturday  evening. — After  having  paid  an  agreeable 
visit  in  the  vicinity,  I  started  by  moonlight  on  a  car 
for  Urlingford,  accompanied  by  a  faithful  servant 
girl,  to  guide  the  horse.  I  sat  with  my  back  towards 
the  animal ;  for  this  is  the  way  of  riding  on  a  "  common 
car."  When  within  a  mile  of  the  town,  we  heard 
music,  and  supposed  it  to  be  one  of  the  Temperance 
bands  with  which  the  country  abounds.  But  on  coming 
nearer,  we  saw  a  motley  company  of  men  and  women, 
with  spades  and  baskets,  some  on  foot  and  some  on 
cars,  following  the  sound  of  fife,  flute,  and  drum  ;  and 
upon  inquiry  we  found  it  was  "  the  faction." 

The  custom  of  the  peasantry,  in  this  part  at  least  of 
the  country,  has  been  to  assemble  in  hundreds,  and 
reap  down  a  harvest,  or  dig  a  farmer's  potatoes,  taking 
their  musicians  with  them,  who  play  through  the  day 
to  amuse  the  laborers,  and  escort  them  home  at  night. 
This  they  never  do  but  for  those  whom  they  respect, 
and  the  generous  farmer  who  has  fed  and  paid  his  la- 
borers well,  is  sure  to  meet  with  a  return  of  this  kind. 
Women  will  go  out  and  bind  sheaves,  rake,  and  toss 


96  CO.  OF  KILKENNY.  [chap.  v. 

hay,  pick  up  potatoes,  &c.;  and  tlie  sight  to  a  stranger 
is  not  only  novel,  but  pleasing.  The  ambition  mani- 
fested to  accomplish  much,  and  to  do  it  well,  is  often 
beyond  that  of  a  paid  laborer,  and  the  hiliarity  over 
their  dinner  and  supper  of  potatoes  and  butter,  and 
"  sup  of  milk,"  is  to  a  generous  mind  a  pleasant  sight ; 
for,  drunk,  or  sober,  rich  or  poor,  it  is  the  Irishman's 
character  to  rememlDer  a  kindness,  and  to  do  what  he 
can  to  repay  it.  We  passed  this  interesting  company, 
listening  to  their  music  till  it  died  away  in  the  distance  ; 
and  though  I  knew  they  were  going  home  to  lie  down 
in  floorless  cabins,  with  no  prospect  of  better  days,  yet 
for  the  moment  I  saw  more  to  envy  than  to  pity ;  for 
these  people  are  so  happy  with  little,  and  make  so 
much  from  nothing,  that  you  often  find  them  enjoying 
when  others  would  be  repining. 

I  had  seen  a  dance,  a  wake,  and  a  faction,  but  had 
never  seen  a  fair  ;  and  being  invited  to  occupy  a  seat 
in  a  chamber  at  Urlingford,  which  overlooked  the  field 
of  action,  I  did  so.  "  You'll  not  see  such  fun,  ma'am, 
now,"  said  my  companion,  "  as  you  would  have  seen 
before  the  days  of  Father  Matthew.  Then  we  had  a 
power  of  bloody  noses,  broken  bones,  and  fine  work 
for  the  police  ;  but  ye'll  see  fine  cattle,  and  fat  pigs  ; 
and  may-be  it's  the  bagpipes  ye'd  like." 

By  ten  o'clock  all  was  in  motion,  and  fatter  cattle, 
finer  pigs,  fowls,  and  butter  (none  of  which  could  the 
peasant  ever  enjoy)  never  adorned  a  fair.  The  first 
interesting  object  which  closely  fixed  my  attention 
was  a  rosy-cheeked,  short,  plump  girl  of  about  twenty, 
perched  upon  a  stand,  crying  like  an  auctioneer,  "  Come, 
boys,  here's  the  chance  ;  only  a  ha'penny  !  Come  now 
while  it's  a  goin';  try  your  luck."  What  this  luck 
could  be  I  could  not  make  out ;  the  ha'pennies  were 
continually  pouring  in,  but  what  was  the  equivalent 
was  not  explained  till  all  was  over.  She  had  a  lottery- 
bag,  containing  all  sorts  of  trifles,  their  names  written 
on  tickets,  such  as  pins,  needles,  combs,  tapes,  ribbons, 
thread,  &c.  The  purchaser  drew  a  ticket  from  the 
bag,  and  might  find  perhaps  a  great  pin,  a  needle,  or  a 


CHAP,  v.]  CO.  OF  KILKENNY.  97 

bit  of  tape ;  now  and  then  the  anxious  eyes  of  the  ex- 
pectant might  greet  an  article  of  value  twico  the  worth 
of  his  ha'penny,  while  many  went  away  with  sorrowful 
hearts.  It  was  said  her  lottery-bag  at  night  was  an 
exulting  remuneration  for  her  day's  exertion,  the  cost 
of  all  that  it  contained  in  the  morning  being  but  very 
trifling.  A  ludicrous  lesson  of  unlettered  human  na- 
ture was  displayed  by  a  company  of  tinkers  selling 
asses.  To  recommend  his  own,  to  lower  the  value  of 
his  neighbor's,  and  to  be  heard  above  the  rest,  is  the 
struggle  of  every  dealer  in  these  commodities.  To 
accomplish  these  desirable  objects,  it  must  not  be 
supposed  that  the  forms  of  etiquette  would  be  strictly 
regarded,  and  sometimes  a  box  on  the  ear  or  the  cheek, 
and  a  pulling  of  caps,  if  not  of  hair,  among  the  women, 
(for  the  wives  of  these  operatives  are  on  the  spot  also) 
make  up  a  ludicrous  variety.  The  dress  and  dialect, 
the  developement  of  self,  the  spontaneous  wit,  with 
the  humble  appearance  of  the  uncomplaining  donkey, 
make  the  scene  to  an  unaccustomed  eye  one  of  amusing 
interest. 

One  matron  was  this  day  carried  from  the  field  by 
the  police.  Leaving  my  eminence,  I  mingled  in  the 
group,  hoping  to  be  unobserved  ;  but  the  good  cabin 
woman,  Mary's  mother,  found  me  out,  and  invited  me 
into  a  house.  I  soon  found  Father  Mathew  was  not 
there,  for  a  young  female  was  dealing  out  "  the  good 
creature"  to  a  happy  company ;  bagpipes  were  playing 
in  the  street  door,  and  a  jolly  group  were  keeping  time 
overhead  by  loud  stamping.  I  was  invited  into  a 
back  apartment,  where  sat  a  company  of  men  and 
women  at  the  upper  end  of  the  table,  with  bread,  tea, 
and  whiskey  before  them,  and  a  huge  hog,  dressed  for 
the  market,  swinging  to  and  fro  over  the  lower  end. 
"  Welcome,  welcome  to  Ireland  !"  came  from  every 
mouth,  accompanied  by  a  bowl  of  tea  from  a  man,  and 
a  glass  of  whiskey  from  a  woman.  This  finished  the 
Urlingford  fair ;  and  turning  away,  I  left  the  room 
without  either  tea  or  whiskey. 

The  fair,  as  a  whole,  was  not  censurable  ;  never  on 
5 


98  CO.  OF  KILKENNY.  [chap.  v. 

any  public  day  in  any  country  had  I  heard  so  little 
profanity  and  noise,  or  seen  so  little  disorder  and  dis- 
puting, the  tinkers  excepted.  The  peasants,  too,  were 
tidily  dressed,  and  with  great  uniformity ;  the  men 
in  blue  coats,  corduroy  breeches,  and  blue  stock- 
ings ;  whilst  a  blue  petticoat,  with  a  printed  dress 
turned  back  and  pinned  behind,  coarse  shoes,  and 
blue  or  black  stockings,  (when  they  have  shoes)  a 
blue  cloak,  with  a  hood  to  put  over  the  head,  in 
case  of  rain,  constitute  the  dress  of  the  women ;  and 
thus  attired,  a  Kilkenny  peasant  seeks  no  change  in 
storm  or  sunshine.  The  habits  of  cooking  and  eating 
have  scarcely  varied  for  two  centuries  ;  their  cabins, 
their  furniture,  have  undergone  little  or  no  change ; 
the  thatched  roofs,  the  ground  floor,  the  little  window, 
the  stone  or  mud  wall,  the  peat  fire,  the  clay  chimney, 
the  wooden  stool,  the  pot,  and  the  griddle,  have  pro- 
bably been  the  inheritance  of  many  generations.  As 
to  cleanliness,  their  habits  are  varied,  as  with  all  other 
people  ;  and  if  few  are  scrupulously  tidy,  few  are  dis- 
gustingly filthy.  Though  every  peasant  in  the  Eme- 
rald Isle  knows  that  he  belongs  to  the  "  lower  order," 
(for  his  teachers  and  landlords  are  fond  of  telling  him 
so,)  the  Kilkenny  rustic,  by  his  self-possessed  manner 
in  presence  of  his  superior,  says,  ^'  I  also  am  a  man  ;" 
and  you  do  not  see  that  cringing  servility  ;  you  do  not 
hear  "  yer  honor,"  "  yer  reverence,"  "  my  lord,"  and 
*'  my  lady"  so  frequently  as  among  many  of  their  class 
in  other  parts  of  Ireland.  They  are  not  so  wretchedly 
poor  as  many  ;  for  though  few  can  afi'ord  the  "  mate," 
except  at  Christmas  or  Easter,  yet  most  of  them  can 
purchase  an  occasional  loaf,  and  "  the  sup  of  tay,"  and 
all  can,  and  all  do,  by  ''  hook  or  by  crook./'  get  the 
*'  blessed  tobacco."  They  are  fond  of  dancing,  and  a 
child  is  taught  it  in  his  first  lessons  of  walking.  The 
bagpipes  and  fiddle  are  ever  at  their  feasts,  especially 
the  latter  ;  and  the  blind  performer  always  receives  a 
cordial  ''  God  bless  you."  The  sweet  harp  has  long 
since  lost  her  strings,  except  perhaps  in  some  ancient 
family,  and  there  it  is  nursed  as  some  valued  plant,  and 
kf'pt  as  a  memento  of  ancient  Tara's  halls.     The  gene- 


CHAP.  VI.]  CO.  OF  KILKENNY.  99 

ration  that  is  passing  away  have  but  little  education ; 
many  of  them  cannot  read,  but  the  children  are  rapidly 
advancing.  The  national  schools  are  doing  much 
good.  One  which  I  visited  in  Urlingford  gave  the  best 
specimen  of  reading  I  ever  heard  in  any  country.  A 
class  of  boys  read  a  chapter  on  the  nature  of  the  atmos- 
phere ;  the  teacher  then  requested  them  to  give  a  spe- 
cimen of  synonymous  reading.  This  was  readily  done, 
by  dropping  every  noun,  in  the  course  of  the  lesson, 
and  giving  a  corresponding  one  of  the  same  import.  It 
was  so  happily  executed,  that  the  listener  would 
not  imagine  but  the  word  was  read  out  of  the  book.  I 
was  handed  a  book,  and  was  retjuested  to  select  a 
chapter  where  I  pleased.  I  did  so,  and  in  no  case  did 
a  pupil  hesitate  to  read  fluently.  Their  specimens  of 
writing  were  praiseworthy,  and  their  knowledge  of 
arithmetic  in  all  the  schools  is  beyond  what  I  could 
expect. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Cabin  L'fe — Urlingford  Spa — Rebuff  from  a  Clergyman — New  Birmingham 
Colliery — Village  of  Grange — The  Police — A  Good  Methodist — Mr.  Barker  of 
Kilcooley — Y'ankee  Doodle — Residence  in  the  Neighborhood — Visit  to  Thnrles 
— Ancient  Abbey  of  Holy  Cross — Journey  to  Clonmel.  Dungarvan,  and  Cappo- 
quin — Visit  to  the  Trappist  Monastery  of  Mount  Mellary. 

The  habits  of  cabin  life  and  cabin  hospitality  have 
so  much  sameness,  that  the  specimen  which  follows  may 
answer  for  the  whole. 

I  had  walked  much  through  the  day,  and  about 
seven  in  the  evening  reached  the  cabin  of  a  woman 
whose  daughter  had  been  a  servant  in  my  house  in 
New  York.  My  reception  was  most  cordial.  In  a 
corner,  where  a  bed  might  have  stood,  was  a  huge  bank 
of  turf,  and  a  pile  of  straw  for  the  pigs.  There  was 
but  one  room  beside,  and  the  family  consisted  of  some 


100  CO.  OF  KILKENNY.  [chap,  vi, 

five  or  six  individuals.  The  cabin  door  being  open, 
the  pigs,  geese,  ducks,  hens,  and  dogs  walked  in  and 
out  at  option. 

After  the  usual  salutations,  the  girl  was  bidden  to  go 
out  and  dig  some  potatoes  ;  the  pot  was  hung  over  the 
fire,  the  potatoes  were  boiled,  and  the  table  was  removed 
into  the  adjoining  room,  and  a  touch  from  the  finger  of 
the  matron  was  the  signal  for  me  to  follow  her  into  sup- 
per. On  a  naked  deal  table  stood  a  plate  of  potatoes 
and  a  mug  of  milk,  of  which  I  was  invited  to  partake. 
The  potatoes  must  be  eaten  from  the  hand,  without 
knife,  fork,  or  plate  ;  and  the  milk  taken  in  sups  from 
the  mug.  I  made  no  delay,  but  applied  my  nails  to 
divesting  the  potatoe  of  its  coat,  and  my  hostess  urged 
the  frequent  use  of  milk,  saying,  "  it  was  provided  on 
purpose  for  you,  and  you  must  take  it."  It  must  be 
remembered  that  a  sup  of  sweet  milk  among  the  poor  in 
Ireland,  is  as  much  a  rarity  and  a  luxury  as  a  slice  of 
plum-pudding  in  a  farm-house  in  x\merica.  I  ate  plen- 
tifully, both  from  hunger  and  courtesy,  and  we  then  re- 
turned to  the  kitchen. 

The  good  man  of  the  house  soon  entered,  and  gave 
me  as  hearty  a  welcome  as  an  Irishman  could  give  ; 
and  the  neighboring  women  and  children  gathered  in, 
till  the  pile  of  turf  and  every  stool  was  occupied.  A 
cheerful  peat  fire  was  burning  upon  the  hearth  ;  the 
children  were  snugly  cowered  in  each  corner  ;  two 
large  pigs  walked  in,  and  adjusted  their  nest  upon  the 
straw  ;  two  or  three  straggling  hens  were  about  the 
room,  which  the  women  caught,  and  raising  the  broken 
lid  of  a  chest  in  one  end  of  the  apartment,  she  put 
them  in  ;  the  dog  was  bidden  to  drive  out  the  geese  ; 
the  door  was  shut,  and  the  man  then  turning  to  me, 
said,  ^'  You  see  how  these  pigs  know  their  place,  and 
when  it's  a  little  cowld  not  a  ha'porth  of  'em  will  stay 
out  of  doors  ;  and  we  always  keep  a  handful  of  straw  in 
that  corner  for  their  bed  "  The  company  seemed  quite 
inclined  to  stay  ;  but  the  good  woman,  looking  well  to 
my  comfort,  called  me  at  an  early  hour  to  the  next 
room,    and   pointing  to  a  bed  which  had  been  erected 


CHAP.  VI.]  CO.  OF  KILKENNY.  101 

for  my  accommodation,  said,  ^*  This  troop  here  would 
be  talking  all  night ;  ye  must  be  tired,  and  see  what 
I've  got  for  ye."  This  was  a  bed  fixed  upon  chairs,  and 
made  so  wide  that  two  could  occupy  it  ;  and  she  as- 
sured me  that  so  glad  was  she  to  see  me,  that  she  would 
sleep  in  a  part  of  it  by  my  side.  It  was  certainly  an 
extra  extension  of  civility  to  leave  the  good  man,  who, 
by  the  way,  had  two  daughters  and  a  sou  of  sixteen  to 
sleep  under  the  same  covering,  and  in  the  same  room 
with  us.  His  bed  was  made  of  a  bundle  or  two  of 
straw  spread  upon  rough  sticks,  and  a  decent  woollen 
covering  put  over  it.  My  bed,  so  far  as  sheets  were 
concerned,  was  certainly  clean,  aud  in  a  few  moments 
the  kind  woman  and  her  husband  and  children  were  qui- 
etly laid  to  rest  for  the  night.  When  all  was  still,  a 
half  hour  of  profitable  reflection  prepared  me  for  a  sweet 
night  of  rest. 

In  my  own  native  land  I  had  slept  under  rich  cano- 
pies, in  stately  mansions  of  the  rich,  in  the  plain, 
wholesome  dwelling  of  the  thrifty  farmer,  the  log-cabin 
of  the  poor,  and  under  tents  on  the  hunting-ground  of 
the  Indian,  but  never  had  I  been  placed  where  poverty, 
novelty,  and  kindness  were  so  happily  blended.  I  fell 
asleep,  nor  did  the  barking  of  a  dog,  the  squealing  of  a 
pig,  or  the  breathing  of  man,  woman,  or  child  arouse 
me,  till  I  heard,  at  sun-rising,  "  Well,  Maggie,  how  are 
ye  this  mornin'  ?  D'ye  know  I  was  lonesome  without 
ye."  "  God  be  praised,"  responded  the  good  woman, 
*'  and  I  hope  ye  are  well,  Johnny."  I  looked  into  the 
Castle  at  Windsor,  where  Prince  Albert,  Victoria,  and 
the  young  princes  were  reclining,  and  I  very  much  que- 
ried whether  their  feelings  were  more  kindly  or  more 
happy  this  morning,  than  were  those  of  these  unsophis- 
ticated peasants. 

Now  for  the  breakfast.  The  good  man  and  the 
children  had  eaten  their  potatoes  before  I  left  the  bed- 
room ;  and  when  I  went  out,  "  Maggie,"  said  the  hus- 
band, "  will  ye  do  as  I  desired  ye  .^"  *'  To  be  sure  I 
will,"  said  Maggie,  putting  her  cloak  over  her  head, 
and  going  out.     Giving  me  '*  God    bless   yez,''   and 


102  CO.  OF  KILKENNY.  [chap.  vi. 

tenderins;  his  best  thanks,  he  said,  "  I  must  go  into 
town  and  leave  ye;  God  speed  ye  on  yer  journey,  and 
bless  ye,  for  coming  to  see  the  poor.'' 

An  hour  passed  before  Maggie  returned,  for  she  had 
ditches  to  cross  and  hedges  to  pass,  to  get  a  piece  of 
bread  for  the  "American  stranger."  The  table  was 
spread  with  bread,  butter,  a  cup  of  tea,  and  a  sup  of 
milk.  The  tea  and  butter  I  declined,  (as  I  do  not  use 
these  articles),  but  the  bread  and  sup  of  milk  made  me 
a  comfortable  breakfast. 

When  I  had  finished,  and  the  women  and  children 
had  called  in  from  abroad,  to  say  good-bye  to  the 
"  American  stranger,"  my  kind  hostess  said,  "  I  must 
show  ye  to  the  road,  which  will  save  ye  a  good  bit  ;  for 
I  love  ye  as  well  as  I  do  my  own  gal  that  sarved  ye." 
The  walk  was  long  and  somewhat  difficult,  but  the  kind- 
ness and  cheerfulness  of  my  good  guide  made  it  quite 
tolerable.  After  setting  me  in  a  straight  course,  she 
said,  ''  And  the  good  God  bless  ye,  and  speed  ye  on 
yer  return  to  your  own  country,  and  bless  ye  well,  the 
cratur  !  for  comin'  to  see  us." 

Urlingford  Spa  is  supposed  to  contain  mineral  qua- 
lities of  a  medicinal  nature  so  efficacious,  that  for  years 
it  has  been  quite  a  resort  for  invalids  from  various 
parts  of  the  country.  A  brother  of  the  good  woman 
with  whom  I  had  first  lodged,  kept  a  house  for  the 
accommodation  of  visitors,  and  had  invited  me  to  visit 
them  and  pass  the  night.  A  four  miles  walk  up  a 
tedious  hill  made  the  sight  of  the  thatched  inn  a  wel- 
come treat  to  my  eyes.  The  family  consisted  of  the 
father  and  mother,  three  daughters,  and  a  son  or  two, 
who  all  assured  me  they  were  ''  right  glad  to  see  me." 
But  the  house  was  so  filled  with  company,  that  they 
had  no  room  to  put  me  in  but  the  kitchen.  "  What 
must  be  done  .^"  was  the  question.  ""  Where  must  the 
cratur  be'  put,  and  what  would  she  ate  P^  I  assured 
them  that  no  delicacy  or  luxury  was  required,  and  a 
piece  of  bread  and  a  couple  of  pears  made  me  a  com- 
fortable meal ;  and  the  old  man  taking  a  hint  from  his 
spouse  that  the  room  was  wanted,  invited  me   to  visit 


CHAP.  VI.]  CO.  OF  KILKENNY.  103 

the  Spa.  A  little  stone  enclosure,  with  a  gate,  secured 
the  well  from  intruders.  The  water  was  running^  from  a 
little  pipe  into  a  reservoir,  and  here  had  people  of  all 
nations  resorted  for  more  than  a  century  ;  yet  no  bath- 
ing establishment  had  been  provided,  nor  were  any 
accommodations  prepared  for  the  visitor,  except  what 
a  thatched  cabin,  with  corresponding  conveniences, 
could  afford. 

A  dand}'-  with  whip  and  cap  came  driving  up  in  a 
single  gig,  drawn  by  a  prancing  horse.  Addressing  in 
Irish  the  old  woman  who  was  attending  at  the  water- 
pipe,  they  held  a  jovial  chat.  At  length,  taking  out 
his  watch,  and  saying,  "  I  must  be  off;  it's  my  dinner 
hour;"  he  whirled  away:  and  as  he  turned  to  go,  a 
young  woman  remarked  to  me,  "  He's  a  humorous 
fellow  ;  he's  always  the  same,  as  full  of  fun  as  ye  see 
him  now."  I  inquired  who  he  was.  She  replied, 
"  The  priest  of  the  parish — a  Catholic,  to  be  sure, 
ma'am."  "  He  seems  to  be  very  well  fed,"  I  remarked. 
"  And  why  shouldn't  he,"  was  her  reply,  "  when  he 
has  a  large  domain,  and  everything  in  his  house — 
money  and  attendants  in  plenty  .^"  The  old  man  now 
invited  me  to  take  a  view  of  the  country,  from  the  top 
of  an  eminence  which  overlooked  a  valley  that  extended 
for  many  miles  on  either  hand,  whilst  immense  ranges 
of  mountains,  at  a  distance,  surrounded  the  whole. 
The  view  was  beautifully  grand  ;  the  air  was  the  purest 
and  sweetest  imaginable,  and  the  fields  of  grain  in 
every  direction  invited  the  sickle  ;  the  hawthorn  hedges, 
cutting  in  fanciful  sections  the  whole  landscape,  di- 
vided one  kind  from  another  in  tasteful  variety ;  while 
the  white  cattle,  which  now  so  much  abound  in  Ire- 
land, and  the  white  thatched  cottages  of  the  peasant, 
were  spotting  hill  and  dale.  We  then  descended,  and 
entered  the  door  of  the  good  man,  when  a  sister  met 
us,  saying,  "  1  don't  know  where  in  the  world,  ma'am, 
we  can  put  ye,  for  the  rooms  are  all  full."  I  felt  the 
repulse  keenly  ;  for  my  long  and  fatiguing  walk,  and 
the  lateness  of  the  hour,  made  it  look  like  an  impos- 
sibility to  proceed  n.nj  further.     I  sat  down   upon   a 


104  CO.  OF  KILKENNY.  [chap.  yi. 

stone  at  the  gate,  not  knowing  what  next  to  do,  when 
two  stout  Irishmen,  who  were  lodgers  in  the  house, 
kindly  approached,  saying  "Do'nt  sit  here,  ma'am  ;  walk 
in  ;  surely  there  must  be  some  place  for  a  stranger."  I 
refused,  saying  I  could  rest  where  I  sat,  as  the  family 
had  informed  me  there  was  no  room  for  me  in  the  house. 
For  a  time  the  case  looked  desperate,  for  I  had  been 
previously  told  that  every  cabin  was  full,  and  it  was 
quite  too  late  to  walk  four  miles  to  find  a  lodging. 
The  old  man  and  his  wife  now  came,  and  stood  in 
silence,  leaning  upon  the  wall  over  the  place  where  I 
was  sitting,  seeming  to  say,  "  1  wish  I  could  find  a  place 
for  ye  ;  for  ye're  a  stranger." 

At  length  the  old  man,  seconded  by  his  wife,  said, 
*'  Come  in,  come  in,  and  sit  in  the  kitchen  ;  ye  can't 
stay  here  ;  we  are  sorry  we  can't  do  better  ;  we  had 
hoped  that  some  of  our  lodgers  would  have  gone  before 
ye  come,  for  we  wanted  ye  here."  I  followed  them 
into  their  floorless  kitchen.  Sitting  by  a  comfortable 
turf  fire,  I  became  drowsy  ;  the  two  kind  Irishmen  were 
sitting  in  the  room,  and  supposing  me  to  be  asleep, 
one  said,  "  Poor  thing  !  she  must  feel  quair  in  a 
strange  country  alone.  I  wonder  how  her  people 
would  trate  a  stranger  in  her  situation — would  they 
trate  her  tenderly.^"  "Aw!  to  be  sure  they  would," 
answered  his  friend ;  '^  the  Americans  have  always 
showed  great  love  for  the  Irish."  "  To  be  sure  they 
have,"  answered  the  woman  of  the  house.  Thinking 
it  time  to  awake,  I  inquired  the  time  ;  it  was  late,  and 
I  had  not  been  told  that  a  lodging  could  be  provided  ; 
and  rising  from  my  chair,  I  said,  "  I  must  seek  some 
place  to  stop  for  the  night."  "  And  that  ye  won't," 
responded  the  woman,  "we  will  do  what  we  can." 
And  her  husband,  with  much  decision,  said,  "  ye  can't 
and  shan't  go."  The  question  was  thus  settled,  and  a 
daughter  was  sent  out  to  get  a  bed  from  a  neighbor's, 
which  she  brought  in  upon  her  back,  and  adjusted  upon 
chairs  ;  and  after  a  repast  of  some  potatoes  and 
salt,  without  knife  or  fork,  I  lay  down  in  the  kitchen 
in  a  clean  bed,  and  not  a  being  in  all  Ireland  slept 


CHAP.  VI.]  CO.  OF  TIPPERARY.  105 

more  sweetly  than  I,  with  my  body-guard  wrapped  in 
her  cloak  on  the  floor  at  my  side. 

I  arose  refreshed,  and  after  taking  my  breakfast 
of  the  same  materials  as  the  supper,  I  said  good  morn- 
ins:,  and  resumed  my  journey.  A  long  walk  down  the 
hill  led  me  near  the  extensive  domain  of  a  Protestant 
clergyman,  on  whom  I  had  been  requested  to  call,  as 
a  frank,  intelligent  man,  who  could  give  me  informa- 
tion concerning  Protestantism  in  the  part  of  the  coun- 
try where  he  was  located.  I  had  called  the  day  before, 
and  was  told  by  a  man  servant  that  he  had  gone  to 
Kilkenny  with  his  wife,  and  would  be  back  in  the 
evening.  ^'  Call,"  said  he,  ''  in  the  morning,  and 
he  will  be  at  home."  The  hall-door  was  open  when 
I  ascended  the  steps.  A  well-dressed  lady  crossed  the 
hall  without  welcome  or  nod.  I  rang  the  bell,  and  the 
same  servant  appeared,  saying,  the  master  has  not 
returned."  I  hesitated,  having  no  doubt  that  the  per- 
son who  crossed  the  hall  was  his  wife  ;  and  descending 
to  the  next  lower  step,  I  leaned  against  the  railing. 
The  servant  walked  in,  and  in  a  moment  the  door  was 
shut  in  a  violent  manner,  and  I  walked  away.  He  had 
a  rich  living,  and  read  his  prayers  weekly  to  a  flock  of 
perhaps  one  in  one  hundred  of  the  population  of  his 
parish. 

My  next  visit  was  to  the  Colliery  at  New  Birming- 
ham. At  an  early  hour,  the  vehicle  was  to  set  off  on 
which  I  was  to  have  a  seat.  This  was  a  baker's  cart, 
and  I  was  perched  on  the  top  of  the  box,  with  no 
resting  place  for  my  feet  but  the  back  of  the  horse, 
which  required  some  exertion  for  me  to  reach,  as 
well  as  strength  of  nerve  to  keep  them  there.  A 
brother  of  like  occupation  with  my  companion  ac- 
companied us,  and  as  the  carts  passed  the  cabin, 
the  inmates  poured  out,  not  only  to  see  the  "  Ameri- 
can stranger,"  but  to  admire  the  throne  on  which 
she  was  elevated.  The  merry  driver  did  his  duty 
in  pointing  out  every  object  of  curiosity  on  the 
road,  as  well  as  procuring  me  a  welcome  to  Ireland 
from  every  man,  woman,  and  child  thav  we  met,  and 
5* 


106  CO.  OF  TIPPERARY.  [chap.  vi. 

an  invitation  to  call  on  them  on  my  return.  One  old 
man  crossed  a  field  to  see  me  and  invite  me  to  his  house, 
saying,  "  I  have  heard  of  ye,  and  I  give  ye  a  hearty  wel- 
come to  our  country."  Promising  all  as  I  passed  that 
I  would  call  on  my  return,  we  moved  slowly  through 
the  settlement.  Reaching  the  foot  of  a  hill,  at  the 
corner  of  a  wall  lay  a  female  wrapped  in  a  cloak.  Ap- 
proaching her,  I  uncovered  her  face  ;  she  looked  slily 
upon«me,  and  drew  the  cloak  over  her  head,  when 
the  driver  called  out,  "  she  will  not  speak  to  ye  ; 
she  is  a  silly  cratur,  who  sleeps  out  of  doors,  going 
where  she  pleases ;  and  when  the  storm  is  strong, 
somebody  gets  her  and  locks  her  in  ;  but  she  bawls  so 
loud  they  can't  keep  her  ;  she's  innocent,  and  has  lived 
so  for  years." 

A  few  little  neat  houses  now  opened  upon  us  in  a 
village  called  Grange,  and  the  police  (who  are  met  all 
over  this  country,  giving  quite  a  relief  to  the  eye), 
came  out  from  the  barracks,  and  gave  me  a  hearty 
welcome.  *'  And  did  you  come  from  America  to  see 
us — from  that  fine  country  f  and  when  do  you  return  .'' 
I  want  to  go  to  that  land.  I  wish  I  could  go  with 
ye."  I  asked,  "  Have  you  business  enough  to  give  you 
exercise  .^"  "  No  indeed  !  Father  Mathew  has  so 
changed  every  thing,  that  our  profession  is  en- 
tirely needless  in  some  parts  of  the  country."  ^'  I 
wish  I  was  in  America,  and  so  do  we  all,"  said 
another. 

A  company  of  laborers  repairing  the  road  now 
stopped  as  1  approached.  "  And  how  much  do  you 
have  for  this  work  P'  I  inquired.  "  But  a  little  en- 
tirely ;  scarcely  enough  to  give  us  bread ;  and  when 
do  ye  go  back  .^  I  wish  I  was  there."  *'  And  how 
much  do  you  get  a  day  .^"  "Eight  pence,  ma'am; 
and  it's  but  a  little  of  the  time  we  get  that."  "  And 
what  do  you  eat.?"  "Eat  !  ma'am,  we  eat  potatoes 
when  we  can  get  'em,  and  right  glad  too  we  are  to 
have 'em."  "And  have  you  no  bread.?"  "Bread! 
ma'am.  Faith  !  that  we  don't  ;  if  we  can  get  a  sup 
of  milk  once  a  day,  or  a  little  salt,  it's  all  we  look  for." 


CHAP.  vr.J  CO.  OF  TIPPERARY.  107 

^'  And  how  can  you  live  on  such  scanty  fare  ?"  ^'  We 
can't  die,  plase  God  !  and  so  we  must  live."  "  Are 
ye  all  tetotalers  1"  "  Indeed  we  are  ;  and  have  ye  any 
in  America  ?  and  are  you  one,  ma'am  .?"  On  my 
answering  in  the  affirmative,  and  bidding  them  good 
morning,  they  all  said,  "  God  speed  ye  !  God  bless 
ye  !  and  I  wish  I  could  go  with  ye." 

These  poor  creatures,  wherever  I  go,  are  truly  ob- 
jects of  great  compassion.  They  are  subjected  to  a  vir- 
tual slavery,  which  is  but  a  step  in  advance  of  the  con- 
dition of  the  American  negro. 

I  could  not  escape  a  house  or  cabin  without  being 
accosted,  and  I  walked  the  distance  of  three  miles  up 
and  down  a  hill  with  all  sorts  of  company  ;  some  coming 
to  meet  me,  and  invite  me  in  to  rest,  offering  me  a  po- 
tato, or  some  milk  ;  till  at  length  a  man  was  called  in 
from  the  field  by  his  daughter,  to  show  me  the  colliers 
at  the  mines.  The  machinery  was  in  operation,  and 
the  mines  were  eighty  yards  under  ground,  for  the  dis- 
tance of  three-quarters  of  a  mile. 

My  letter  of  introduction  was  to  Mr.  Scanlin,  a  lo- 
cal Methodist  preacher,  who  acted  as  agent  among  the 
miners,  and  also  as  a  kind  of  missionary.  His  good 
wife  sent  a  little  daughter  to  show  me  to  his  office. 
He  received  me  kindly,  explained  the  machinery,  etc., 
and  introduced  me  to  the  miners,  who  welcomed  me 
heartily. 

This  agent  was  in  appearance  all  that  a  Christian 
should  be  ;  unassuming,  and  full  of  that  benevolence 
which  does  not  exhaust  itself  by  words  and  tears,  but 
makes  sacrifices  of  individual  ease  to  promote  the  good 
of  others.  He  possessed  talents  which  would  adorn  a 
higher  station  than  that  of  weighing  coal  and  inspect- 
ing mines  ;  but  for  a  small  salary  he  is  spending  his 
time,  and  truly  "  condescending  to  men  of  low  estate," 
to  do  what  must  be  done,  and  what  few  possessing  his 
abilities  would  be  willing  to  do.  "  Tell  your  mother," 
he  said  to  his  daughter,  ^'  that  she  must  not  let  Mrs.  N. 
leave  us  to-night.''     His  wife  willingly  seconded  the 


108  CO.  OF  TIPPER ARY.  [chap.  vi. 

hospitable  invitation,   and  my  stay  was  protracted  to 
two  nights. 

This  mother  acted  as  school-teacher  to  her  children, 
who  were  seven  in  number,  and  appeared  to  be  tractable 
pupils  ;  they  were  instructed  to  fear  God  and  keep  his 
commandments,  as  the  whole  duty  of  man.  I  regretted 
leaving  this  family,  who  had  made  my  stay  so  pleasant ; 
and  leaving  them,  too,  buried  in  coal-pits,  and  deprived 
of  the  privilege  of  educating  their  children,  or  enjoying 
life  more  congenial  to  minds  of  their  stamp. 

I  visited  the  house  and  pleasure-grounds  of  an  es- 
tated  gentleman  near  the  mines.  The  gardener  kindly 
showed  me  the  grounds  of  his  master,  presented  me 
with  such  fruits  and  vegetables  as  he  thought  I  liked, 
and  introduced  me  to  the  dairy-maids,  who  showed  me 
the  Irish  manner  of  making  a  kind  of  cream-cheese. 
This  is  done  by  putting  the  thick  sour  cream  into  a 
cloth,  hanging  it  up  till  the  thinner  part  has  dropped 
from  it,  and  then  putting  it  into  a  hoop  like  a  sieve, 
and  pressing  it  down  tightly.  The  house  was  elegant, 
the  ottomans  and  stools  covered  with  needle-work 
wrought  by  the  hands  of  the  mother  and  daughters. 
The  servants  spoke  kindly  of  the  master  and  mistress. 
It  is  quite  pleasing  to  find,  here  and  there,  a  landlord 
who  sheds  comparative  comfort  on  his  domestics  and 
poor  tenants,  and  gives  them  cause  to  bless  rather  than 
curse  him  in  their  hearts.  "  Here  is  a  dispensary," 
said  the  housekeeper,  "  which  the  mistress  keeps  for  the 
poor,  and  when  any  of  the  tenantry  are  sick,  they  are 
supplied  with  medicine  gratis.  The  master  keeps  a 
hundred  men  and  women  in  his  employ,  including 
miners,  and  pays  them  punctually  the  eight-pence  a 
day,  beside  granting  them  many  extras,  which  greatly 
lighten  the  burdens  of  the  poor. 

I  found  but  one  thing  to  regret  in  the  good  family 
of  the  Methodist ;  two  gentlemen  called,  and  the  kind 
woman,  according  to  the  usage  of  the  country,  pre- 
sented her  whiskey,  not  because  she  wished  to  do  so, 
but  because  they  wanted  it.     I  begged  her  to  renounce 


CHAP.  VI.]  CO.  OP  TIPPERARY.  109 

this  wicked  custom,  and  all  who  heard  me  acquiesced 
in  the  correctness  of  my  principle,  but  thousrht  that 
when  taken  in  moderation  the  strong  drink  could  do  no 
possible  hurt.  One  of  the  party  was  a  Roman  Catho- 
lic. He  invited  me  to  his  house,  and  introduced  me  to 
his  wife,  who  made  me  feel  quite  at  home,  and  her  four 
talented  little  sons  wanted  nothing  but  a  little  of  Solo- 
mon's rod  to  make  them  an  ornament  to  society.  Here 
I  was  entertained  with  Irish  legends  and  tales,  which 
lost  none  of  their  interest  by  the  manner  in  which  they 
were  related. 

The  celebrated  estate  of  Kilcooley  has  descended  by 
hereditary  title  from  the  days  of  Cromwell,  till  it  is  now 
lodged  in  the  hands  of  one  who  shares  largely  in  the 
affections  of  all  his  tenants,  especially  the  poor.  The 
wall  surrounding  his  domain  is  said  to  be  three  miles  in 
extent,  including  a  park  containing  upwards  of  three 
hundred  deer,  and  a  wild  spot  for  rabbits.  A  church, 
and  an  ancient  ivy-covered  abbey  of  the  most  venerable 
appearance,  adorn  a  part  of  it. 

But  the  pleasure  of  walking  over  these  delightful 
fields  is  enhanced  by  the  knowledge  that  his  tenants 
are  made  so  happy  by  his  kindness.  To  every  widow 
he  gives  a  pension  of  i6l2  a  year  ;  and  to  every  person 
injuring  himself  in  his  employment,  the  same  sum 
yearly,  as  long  as  the  injury  lasts.  His  mother  was  all 
kindness,  and  her  dying  injunction  to  him  was,  ''  To  be 
good  to  the  poor."  His  house  has  been  burned,  leaving 
nothing  but  the  spacious  wings  uninjured.  An  elegant 
library  was  lost.  His  mother,  whom  he  ardently  loved, 
was  buried  in  a  vault  on  the  premises  ;  and  his  grief  at 
her  death  was  such  that  he  left  the  domain  for  twelve 
months.  He  supports  a  dispensary  for  the  poor,  who 
resort  to  it  twice  a  week,  and  receive  medicine  from  a 
physician  who  is  paid  some  sixty  pounds  a  year  for  his 
attendance.  I  was  introduced  to  the  family  of  this 
physician,  to  see  his  daughter,  who  had  been  a  resident 
in  New  York  some  six  years,  and  hoped  soon  to  return 
thither  to  her  husband  and  child  still  living  there.  As 
I  was  seated,  a  little  son  of  two  years  old,  and  born  in 


no  CO.  OF  TIPPER ARY.  [chap.  vi. 

America,  stood  near  me.  I  asked  his  name  ;  *'  Yankee 
Doodle,  ma'am,"  was  the  prompt  reply.  This  unex- 
pected answer  bronsht  my  country,  with  every  national 
as  well  as  social  feeling  to  mind,  and  I  clasped  the  sweet 
boy  in  my  arms.  Let  not  the  reader  laugh  ;  he  may 
yet  be  a  stranger  in  a  foreign  land.  This  name  the 
child  gave  himself,  and  insists  upon  retaining  it.  O  ! 
those  dear  little  children  !  I  hear  their  sweet  voices 
still  :  "  God  bless  ye,  lady,  welcome  to  our  country," 
can  never  be  forgotten.  Nothing  was  neglected  that 
could  contribute  to  my  comfort.  If  I  begged  them  to 
take  less  trouble  on  my  account,  the  daughter  replied 
that  she  had  lived  in  America,  and  had  been  a  partaker 
of  the  hospitality  there  exercised  towards  strangers, 
and  knew  well  the  comforts  there  enjoyed  ;  and  that 
all  which  could  be  done  for  an  American  stranger  was 
little  enough.  At  first  I  supposed  this  extreme  kind- 
ness must  soon  wear  out.  Not  so  ;  for  months  this 
house  was  my  home,  and  the  last  hour  I  spent  in  it  was 
if  possible  more  friendly  than  the  first. 

While  in  this  family,  I  attended  the  Protestant 
church  on  Mr.  Barker's  domain,  and  heard  the  curate 
read  his  prayers  to  a  handful  of  parishioners,  mostly 
youth  and  children.  By  the  assistance  of  a  rich  uncle 
of  his  wife's,  he  can  ride  to  church  in  a  splendid  car- 
riage, which  makes  him  tower  quite  above  his  little  flock. 
His  salary  is  £7b  per  annum. 

My  visit  among  this  hospitable  people  had  been  pro- 
tracted partly  by  inclination,  and  partly  by  unavoida- 
ble hindrances,  until  I  had  visited  every  house  and 
cabin  in  the  neighborhood.  I  sometimes  spent  a  day 
in  a  farm-house,  cooking,  in  the  American  style,  a 
pudding,  cake,  or  pie,  which  to  these  bread-and-butter 
eaters  was  a  perfect  anomaly.  My  talents,  I  began  to 
fear,  were  becoming  too  popular  for  my  own  interest, 
and  at  length  I  made  myself  ready  to  depart.  ^'  If  you 
can  stay,"  said  the  kind  doctor,  '^  don't  leave  us  ;  my 
house  shall  be  your  home  while  you  stay  in  Ireland  ; 
but  if  you  must  go,  God  speed  you"  It  was  then  I 
felt  the  worth  of  kindness.     I  was  going  out,  scarcely 


CHAP.  VI.]  CO.  OF  TIPPERARY.  Ill 

knowing  where ;  unprotected  in  a  strange  land  ;  and 
where  should  I  meet  with  such  kind  voices,  and  such 
hearty  welcomes  again  ?  Hardly  could  my  tongue 
utter  one  word  of  gratitude  for  all  the  kind  offices 
shown  me,  and  I  gathered  up  my  effects  and  myself 
upon  the  car,  accompanied  by  the  doctor's  kind  wife, 
who  was  going  to  convey  me  ten  miles  to  Thurles,  and 
introduce  me  to  her  sister  residing  there. 

The  morning  was  pleasant,  and  had  not  my  heart 
been  a  little  sad,  it  would  have  been  congenial  to  every 
feeling  of  my  mind,  so  naturally  fitted  for  the  enjoyment 
of  rich  scenery  in  nature. 

Thurles  is  an  ancient  town  in  the  county  of  Tip- 
perary,  somewhat  neatly  built.  It  contains  a  good 
market-house,  fine  chapel,  college  for  Catholics,  nun- 
nery, and  charity-school,  with  a  JProtestant  church,  and 
Methodist  chapel.  My  reception  here  was  cordial,  and 
the  house  in  quite  American  taste.  My  stay  was  con- 
tinued a  day  or  two  longer  than  I  at  first  intended  ; 
and  as  Tuesday  was  market-day,  it  presented  a  fa- 
vorable opportunity  of  seeing  the  peasantry,  who  ap- 
peared more  cleanly  and  comfortable  than  those  of 
many  towns   in  Ireland,  though  much   like  Kilkenny. 

In  company   with    Mrs.  W ,  and  her    sister,  Mrs. 

Burke,  I  took  a  ride  of  three  miles  to  visit  Holy  Cross. 
On  our  way  we  passed  a  splendid  estate,  now  owned 
by  a  gentleman  who  came  into  possession  suddenly  by 
the  death  of  the  former  owner,  for  whom  he  acted  as 
agent.  Last  Christmas  they  had  been  walking  over 
the  premises  in  company  ;  on  their  return,  the  owner 
met  with  a  fall,  and  was  carried  home  to  die  in  a  few 
hours.  It  was  found  he  had  willed  his  great  estate  to 
this  agent,  who  is  much  elated  at  his  happy  exaltation. 
Holy  Cross  was  the  most  venerable  curiosity  1  had  yet 
seen  in  all  Ireland.  We  ascended  the  winding  steps, 
and  looked  forth  upon  the  surrounding  country,  and 
the  view  told  well  for  the  taste  of  O'Brien,  who  reared 
this  vast  pile  in  1076.  The  fort  containing  the  chapel 
is  built  in  the  form  of  a  cross  ;  the  perpendicular  part 
was  that  which  we   ascended.     The  architecture,  the 


112  CO.  OF  KILKENNY.  [chap.  vi. 

ornamental  work,  and  the  roofs  of  all  the  rooms  dis- 
played skill  and  taste.  The  apartments  for  the  monks, 
the  kitchen  where  their  vegetable  food  was  prepared, 
but  still  more,  the  place  where  repose  so  many  of  their 
dead  were  objects  of  deep  interest.  "  Here,"  said  the 
old  woman,  who  interpreted  for  us,  ^'  is  the  place  of 
saints,"  pointing  to  the  graves.  "  Here  lie  my  husband 
and  two  children,  and  many  a  dark  and  hungry  day 
have  I  seen  since  I  laid  'em  there."  Some  of  the  in- 
scriptions on  the  monuments  were  so  defaced,  that  they 
could  not  be  decyphered,  and  the  gravestones  were  so 
huddled  upon  one  another,  that  it  was  quite  a  confused 
mass.  Pieces  of  skulls  and  leg-bones  lay  among  the 
dust  which  had  lately  been  shovelled  up;  and  as  I 
gathered  a  handful  and  gave  them  to  the  old  woman, 
she  said,  "  This  cannot  be  helped.  I  pick  'em  up  and 
hide  'em  when  I  see  'em  and  that's  all  can  be  done  ; 
people  will  bury  here,  and  it's  been  buried  over  for 
years,  because  you  see,  ma'am,  it's  the  place  of  saints. 
People  are  brought  many  miles  to  be  put  here ;  the 
priests  from  all  parts  have  been  buried  here,  and  here 
is  the  place  to  wake  'em,"  showing  a  place  where  the 
coffin,  or  rather  body,  was  placed  in  a  fixture  of  cu- 
riously wrought  stone.  The  altars,  though  defaced, 
were  not  demolished ;  the  basins  cut  out  of  the  stones 
for  the  holy  water  were  still  entire  ;  and  though  many 
a  deformity  had  been  made  by  breaking  off  pieces,  as 
sacred  relics,  enough  remains  to  show  the  traveller 
what  was  the  grandeur  of  the  Romish  church  in  Ireland's 
early  history. 

The    next    evening  I  accompanied    my   kind    Mrs. 

W out  of  town,    and  felt   when  she  gave  me  her 

hand,  and  said  ,  "  Please  God,  I  hope  to  see  you  again 
before  I  die,"  that  I  was  parting  with  a  real  friend. 
I  then  returned  to  her  sister's,  who  did  all  she  could  to 
make  me  comfortable.  She  was  a  Catholic,  and  her 
husband  endeavored  to  induce  me  to  become  one  also, 
fearing  I  should  lose  my  soul  out  of  the  true  church  ; 
but  his  zeal  was  tempered  with  the  greatest  kindness. 

When   I  was    about   leaving  Thurles,    Mrs.  B 


CHAP.  vi.J  CO.  OF  TIPPER ARY.  113 

said,  "  You  should  see  Mount  Mellary  before  leaving 
Ireland."  Inquiring  what  it  might  be,  my  curiosity 
was  awakened  by  what  I  heard,  to  see  it,  and  I  resolved 
to  take  a  car  the  next  morning,  and  make  my  way 
thither,  a  distance  of  more  than  fifty  English  miles. 
1  had  hoped  to  stop  at  the  Rock  of  Cashel,  but  was 
obliged  for  the  present  to  content  myself  by  seeing  its 
lofty  pinnacle.  Perched  upon  the  top  of  a  rock,  it  has 
stood  the  ravages  of  centuries,  looking  out  upon  the 
world,  and  the  city  beneath  its  feet,  which  is  now  going 
fast  to  decay.  Cashel  looked  more  deserted  this  day 
than  usual,  as  a  rich  brewer  in  the  city,  a  brother  of 
Father  Mathew  had  died,  and  the  shops  were  closed  in 
honor  of  his  funeral. 

When  travelling  by  coaches  and  cars,  I  had  been  so 
much  annoyed  by  the  disgusting  effluvia  of  tobacco, 
that  I  dreaded  a  "  next  stage,"  the  changing  of  horses 
being  the  signal  for  a  fresh  lighting  up.  Seating  my- 
self upon  the  car  at  Cashel,  my  hap  was  to  be  stowed 
behind  a  rustic  who  had  reloaded  his  pipe,  and  began 
puffing  till  my  unlucky  head  was  enveloped  in  a  dense 
fog,  a  favorable  wind  wafting  it  in  that  direction. 
Knowing  that  the  consumers  of  this  commodity  are  not 
fastidiously  civil,  1  forbore  to  complain,  until  I  became 
sick.  At  length  I  ventured  to  say,  "  Kind  sir,  would 
you  do  me  the  favor  to  turn  your  face  a  little  ?  Your 
tobacco  has  made  me  sick."  Instantly  he  took  the 
filthy  machine  from  his  mouth,  and  archly  looking  at 
me,  "  May  be  yer  ladyship  would  take  a  blast  or  two  at 
the  pipe,"  resumed  his  puffing  without  changing  his 
position.      I  was  cured  of  asking  favors. 

Passing  on  from  Cashel,  a  Roman  Catholic  priest 
seated  himself  upon  the  car,  whom  I  found  polite  and  in- 
telligent. His  first  inquiries  were  concerning  American 
slavery.  Its  principles  and  practices  he  abhored,  and 
he  could  not  comprehend  its  existence  in  a  republican 
government.  I  blush  for  my  country  when,  on  every 
car,  and  at  every  party  and  lodging-house,  this  ever- 
lasting blot  on  America's  boasted  history  is  presented 
to  my  eyes.     Even  the  illiterate  laborer,  who  is  lean- 


114  CO.  OF  TIP  PER ARY.  [chap.  vi. 

ing  on  his  spade,  and  tells  me  of  his  eight-pence  a 
day,  when  I  in  pity  exclaim,  "How  can  you  live? 
you  could  be  better  fed  and  paid  in  America,"  he 
often  remarks,  "  Aw,  you  have  slaves  iu  America, 
and  are  they  better  fed  and  clothed  ?"  My  priest  took 
his  leave,  and  his  seat  was  occupied  by  a  deaf  old  man 
who  was  a  sorry  substitute  ;  but  a  few  hours  carried 
us  to  Clonmel,  a  town  neat  in  its  appearance,  contain- 
ing about  twenty  thousand  inhabitants,  amongst  whom 
are  many  Quakers.  Here  some  of  the  "  White 
Quakers,"  a  small  body  of  "  Come-outers,"  from  the 
Quakers,  formerly  resided,  but  they  have  removed  to 
Dublin.  These  people  bitterly  denounce  others,  but 
take  liberties  themselves  under  pretence  of  walking  in 
the  spirit,  which  by  many  would  be  considered  quite 
indecorous.  The  men  wear  white  hats,  coats  and  pan- 
taloons of  white  woollen  cloth,  and  shoes  of  undressed 
leather  ;  the  women  likewise  dress  in  white,  to  denote 
purity  of  life.  Seeing  a  laborer  digging  a  ditch 
under  a  wall,  I  asked  him  the  price  of  his  day's  work. 
"A  shilling,  ma'am."  "This  is  better  than  in  Tip- 
perary,  sir."  "  But  we  don't  have  this  but  a  little  part 
of  the  year ;  the  Quakers  are  very  hard  upon  us  here, 
ma'am  ;  giving  us  work  but  a  little  time,  and  if  a  poor 
Irishman  is  found  to  be  a  little  comfortable,  they  say, 
'  he  has  been  robbing  us.'  The  English,  too,  are  ex- 
pecting a  war,  and  they  want  us  to  enlist ;  but  a  divil 
of  an  Irishman  will  they  get  to  fight  their  battles. 
O'Connell  is  not  out  of  prison  ;"  and  stopping  sud- 
denly, leaning  on  his  spade,  "  How  kind  Auierica  has 
been  to  us  ;  we  ought  to  be  friends  to  her,  and  the  Irish 
do  love  her."  He  grew  quite  enthusiastic  on  America's 
kindness  and  Britain's  tyranny,  dropped  his  spade, 
climbed  the  wall  where  I  was  standing,  and  expatiated 
on  Ireland's  woes  and  America's  kindness  till  I  was 
obliged  to  say  "  good  bye." 

A  new  car  and  driver  were  now  provided.  These 
drivers  are  a  terrible  annoyance,  with  their  "  Rent, 
ma'am."  "  Rent  !  for  what  .^"  "  For  the  driver, 
ma'am."     "  I  will  give  you  an  order  on  Bianconi,  sir, 


CHAP.  VI.]  CO.  OF  WATERFORD.  115 

I  had  been  told  that  Bianconi  paid  his  coachmen  well, 
and  forbade  their  annoying  the  passengers,  but  after- 
wards found  that  they  receive  from  him  but  tenpence 
or  a  shilling  a  day,  out  of  which  they  must  board  them- 
selves. I  was  sorry  I  spoke  so  to  the  driver,  and  hope 
to  learn  better  manners  in  future.  I  had  now  a  solitary 
road  to  pass,  and  no  fellow  passenger  but  a  police  offi- 
cer sitting  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  car.  Our  route 
lay  through  defiles  in  the  intricate  windings  of  the 
Knockmeledowu  mountains,  and  had  my  faith  been 
strong  in  giants,  fairies,  and  hobgoblins,  the  dark  re- 
cesses and  caves  in  these  mountains  would  have  afi"ordcd 
ample  food  for  imagination. 

The  sun  came  out  from  the  dark  pavilion  in  which 
he  had  been  hidden  through  the  day,  to  take  a  last 
look  upon  the  eastern  crags  and  lofty  mountains  he 
was  about  leaving.  The  stillness  of  death  reigned, 
except  when  at  long  intervals  the  barking  of  some 
surly  cur  told  that  a  miserable  hovel  was  near.  Then 
some  barefooted  mother,  with  a  troop  of  besmeared 
and  tattered  children,  would  present  us  with  undeni- 
able proofs  of  Ireland's  woes  and  degradation.  Not  a 
human  voice  was  heard  for  many  a  long  mile.  Reach- 
ing across  the  car,  I  asked  the  police  officer  the  name  of 
the  county.  "I  don't  know,  ma'am,"  was  the  reply, 
though  he  was  then  probably  within  the  precincts  of  his 
own  location,  as  he  soon  alighted  from  the  car.  The 
last  light  of  day  left  us  as  we  emerged  from  these 
romantic  mountains,  and  entered  the  seaport  town  of 
Dungarvan.  We  proceeded  onwards,  and  were  joined 
by  a  company  of  pleasant  young  women,  who,  finding 
that  I  was  a  stranger,  procured  for  me  lodgings  when 
we  arrived  at  the  town  of  Cappoquin.  There  was  a 
gentleman  from  Clonmel,  who  had  a  son  in  New  York, 
and  who  invited  me  to  his  house  on  my  return,  and 
the  evening  passed  pleasantly  with  two  or  three  talka- 
tive Irishmen,  whose  good  nature,  when  in  exercise,  is 
always  a  compensation  for  every  inconvenience.  I 
was  now  in  the  region  of  romance,  on  the  banks  of  the 
Blackwater,  and  three  miles  from   the  famous  Mount 


116  CO.  OF  WATERFORD.  [chap.  vr. 

Mellary.  The  following  morning,  in  company  with 
two  countrywomen,  an  old  lady  and  her  daughter,  I 
attempted  to  ascend  the  mountain.  A  dark  deep  ravine 
lies  at  the  foot,  the  silence  of  which  is  broken  only  by 
the  murmur  of  a  little  rill,  which  stealthily  makes  its 
way  to  the  river  that  runs  by  the  town.  We  were 
upon  the  ridge  of  the  glen,  picking  blackberries,  when 
a  company  of  men  with  carts  were  passing,  one  called 
out,  "  Sure  ye'd  take  a  lift  up  the  mountain  ;  the  way 
is  long  and  tedious."  A  board  from  the  back  part  of 
cart  was  taken  out,  and  the  daughter  was  helped  up 
with  ^'  Mickey,"  and  the  mother  and  myself  with 
"  Paddy."  The  aspiring  steeple  of  the  monastery 
now  rose  in  full  view ;  the  cultivated  garden,  the  ex- 
tended lawns,  and  fields  whose  ripened  corn  had  just 
been  gathered  by  the  hand  of  the  reaper,  were  spread 
on  each  hand,  and  in  front  of  the  chapel.  We  reached 
the  porter's  lodge,  some  rods  from  the  monastery, 
where  we  descended  from  our  cars.  We  saw  a  monk 
approaching,  in  his  gown  and  cowl,  and  hoped  he  might 
be  coming  to  meet  us ;  but  he  passed  in  silence,  not 
casting  a  look  upon  the  prohibited  article,  icoman^  and 
entered  the  lodge.  Reaching  the  monastery,  we  were 
met  by  men  and  women,  some  walking,  some  riding 
from  the  gate  to  depart,  and  a  pleasant-looking  monk 
approached,  and  beckoned  us  to  follow.  Giving  him 
my  card,  he  drew  on  his  spectacles,  and  reading  "  New 
York,"  his  countsnance  lighted  up,  and  he  broke 
silence,  "  Then  you  are  from  New  York  ;  and  how 
long  }  And  have  ye  left  friends  after  ye  ?  And  did 
ye  come  to  see  Ireland.^  repeating  "  America,"  as  he 
led  us  into  the  garden,  which  was  beautifully  laid  out 
as  a  place  for  ornament,  and  the  burying-ground. 
Twelve  of  their  number  are  sleeping  there,  with  a  wood- 
en cross  at  the  head  and  foot  of  each.  We  were  next 
introduced  into  a  long  hall,  where  were  wooden  pegs 
upon  each  side,  bearing  the  robes  used  for  the  week 
day,  and  over  each  the  name  of  the  owner.  A  narrow 
passage  led  us  a  few  steps  lower  into  the  chapel.  This 
is  imposing,  for,  contrary  to  my  expectations,  it  was 


CHAP.  VI.]  CO.  OF  WATERFORD.  117 

more  grand  than  gorgeous.  The  richness  and  tasteful 
finish  of  the  decorations  were  beautiful.  The  lofty  ceil- 
ing, the  pillars  of  imitation  marble  at  each  end  of  the 
altar,  and  a  large  stained  glass  window  behind  it,  which 
threw  over  the  whole  a  light  peculiarly  grateful  to  the 
eye,  had  a  happy  effect.  In  the  rear  was  the  gallery 
for  the  choir  and  organ  ;  the  latter  was  a  present  from  a 
gentleman  in  Dublin,  who  is  now  one  of  the  brother- 
hood. It  is  an  instrument  of  finished  workmanship 
and  tone.  We  were  next  shown  into  a  long  corridor, 
on  the  end  of  which  is  written  "  Silence."  No  monk 
or  visitor  is  here  allowed  to  speak.  We  passed  three 
of  these  long  walks  in  silence,  and  then  the  dining-room 
was  opened.  Here  were  tables  placed  for  a  family  of 
ninety-seven,  with  a  knife,  fork,  and  spoon  to  each 
person,  a  piece  of  coarse  bread  wrapped  in  a  clean 
cloth,  and  a  tumbler  for  water  by  the  side.  No  flesh, 
fish,  eggs,  or  butter  is  eaten  by  the  monks ;  and 
from  September  till  the  twenty-fifth  of  March,  they 
take  but  one  meal  a  day,  except  a  collation  of  four 
ounces  of  bread  in  the  morning ;  the  other  six  months 
they  take  two  meals  a  day.  We  were  next  shown  the 
sleeping-room  :  this  is  on  true  philosophical  principles 
— a  spacious,  clean  room,  well  ventilated,  without  a 
carpet,  with  a  slight  partition  between  each  bed, 
leaving  room  for  the  free  ingress  of  air,  and  a  green 
worsted  curtain  before  each  door,  elevated  some  inches 
from  the  floor.  The  beds  are  narrow,  and  made  of 
straw,  with  a  coarse  covering.  We  were  next  seated  in 
the  guest's  room,  when  a  monk  entered,  to  whom  our 
guide  introduced  me  as  an  American,  and  a  friend  to 
the  Irish.  He  warmly  welcomed  me  to  the  country, 
and  set  upon  a  table  bread,  butter,  and  wine.  Learn- 
ing that  I  took  no  butter,  "  What  shall  we  get  for  you, 
then  .^"  said  our  guide,  "  you  are  worse  than  ourselves. 
Why  should  you  live  so  .?"  Explaining  my  reasons, 
*'  Very  good,"  was  the  answer.  I  assured  them  that  I 
should  make  a  good  dinner  on  bread  and  an  apple, 
which  the  kind  lady  had  given  me,  and  they  left  the 
room.  The  bread  was  made  of  what  is  called  in  Eng- 
land  second  flour,  the   bran   taken  off,   and   the   corn 


118  CO.  OF  WATERFORD.  [chap.  vi. 

ground  coarsely  ;  it  was  brown  and  very  sweet,  and  my 
companions  testified  to  the  good  quality  of  the  butter  ; 
both  were  made  by  the  hands  of  a  monk. 

When  we  had  been  left  a  suitable  time  to  finish  our 
repast,  the  guide  returned,  presenting  a  book  to  register 
our  names.  We  presented  him  with  a  piece  of  money, 
which  we  saw  written  over  the  door  was  requested  to 
be  given  to  any  in  attendance  ;  he  said  to  each  of  us, 
"  Maybe  you  cannot  consistently  spare  this ;  if  so, 
we  do  not  wish  it."  We  assured  him  we  were  more 
than  compensated.  He  then  said,  ^'  walk  down,"  and 
showing  us  to  a  little  room  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs, 
without  asking  us  to  sit,  he  introduced  me  to  an  Ame- 
rican, inquiring,  "  Did  you  leave  your  native  land 
alone  to  seek  out  the  poor  in  Ireland  ?"  Then  turning 
to  a  brother,  he  said  in  an  under  tone,  ''  This  is  doing 
as  Christ  did.  And,"  said  he,  addressing  himself  to 
me,  ^'  what,  after  all,  do  you  think  of  Ireland.^  It  is 
true  she  is  a  little  island,  but  she  has  made  a  great 
noise  in  the  world."  She  is,  and  has  always  been,  poor 
in  spirit,  and  struggling  with  poverty,  and  Christ  has 
said  the  kingdom  of  heaven  belongs  to  such.  The 
being  "  poor  in  spirit"  did  not  seem  quite  to  the  point, 
but  leaving  no  time  for  argument,  without  apology, 
one  after  another  presented  the  hand,  saying,  "  good 
morrow,"  and  retired.  The  guide  took  us  out  at  the 
door,  thanked  us  for  coming,  wished  me  a  safe  journey, 
showed  us  a  shorter  route  over  the  mountain,  and  said, 
'' Farewell." 

As  we  looked  back,  and  saw  what  a  barren  waste  had 
been  converted  into  a  fruitful  field  by  the  hand  of  un- 
tiring industry,  I  felt  an  earnest  desire  to  learn  the  his- 
tory of  this  Herculean  task  ;  and  at  evening  a  member 
of  the  family  where  I  lodged,  who  had  been  conversant 
with  its  history  from  the  beginning,  gave  me  the  desired 
information. 

These  monks  had  been  united  with  the  brotherhood 
at  La  Trappe,  in  France,  but  had  been  banished  thence. 
Those  who  were  Irishmen  returned  to  Ireland,  in 
number  about  sixty,  with  but  three  shillings  as  all 
their    earthly  possessions.     vSome    thirty  pounds  were 


CHAP.  VI.]  CO.  OF  WATERFORD.  119 

collected,  and  sent  to  their  relief  the  evening  after  their 
landing,  and  they  soon  fixed  their  eyes  on  this  barren 
spot  as  the  place  for  a  future  residence.  Lord  Kane, 
the  owner  of  the  mountain,  offered  six  hundred  acres, 
for  a  shilling  a  year  per  acre  for  twenty- one  years  ; 
then,  for  half-a-crown  an  acre  for  ninety-nine  years  ; 
and  the  lease  to  be  renewed  at  the  end  of  that  term. 
This  being  settled,  the  bounds  were  laid  out,  and  the 
neighboring  priests  invited  their  people  to  take  spade 
and  mattock,  pick  and  shovel,  and  assist  in  making  the 
wall.  The  day  was  appointed,  the  people  assembled 
in  crowds,  each  with  his  instrument  of  husbandry,  and 
formed  a  procession  at  Cappoquin,  with  the  monks  at 
their  head,  carrying  a  cross.  A  band  of  music  escorted 
them  up  the  mountain,  and  the  provisions  and  imple- 
ments of  cookery  were  carried  on  carts,  the  women 
following  to  cook  the  provisions.  Thus  commenced 
the  wall,  and  so  continued  daily,  the  band  going  up  at 
night  to  escort  them  down,  and  ascending  with  them 
in  the  mountain.  The  mountain  was  then  a  rocky, 
sterile,  unpromising  spot,  covered  with  heath,  and,  to 
any  but  the  eyes  of  a  monk,  wholly  impervious  to  cul- 
tivation. They  built  a  temporary  shelter  when  the 
wall  was  finished,  and  remained  there,  working  with 
their  own  hands,  till  a  fruitful  harvest  gladdened  their 
toil,  and  the  "  desert  rejoiced  and  blossomed  as  the 
rose." 

In  1833,  the  corner-stone  of  the  grand  chapel  was 
laid.  Thousands  from  all  parts  of  Ireland  collected. 
The  monks,  dressed  in  their  robes,  performed  high  mass 
before  a  temporary  altar,  erected  under  a  tent,  and  a 
multitude  of  seventy  thousand  united  in  the  celebration. 
A  sermon  was  preached  by  the  bishop,  and  the  corner- 
stone was  laid.  Under  this  stone  were  placed  the  dif- 
ferent coins,  from  the  sovereign  to  the  farthing.  On  it 
was  inscribed  : — 

"  Aug.  20th,  1838.  Pope  Pins  VII.,  Sir  Richard  Kane,  Baronet, 
and  Lady  Kane,  patrons.  Right  Rev.  Dr.  Abraham,  Roman  Ca- 
thoiic  Bishop  of  the  Diocese  of  Waterford,  the  layer  of  the  foimda- 
tion-stone.  Very  Rev.  Dr.  M.  V.  Ryan,  Prior  of  Mount  Mellary 
Abbey. 


120  CO.  OF  WATERFORD.  [chap.  vi. 

The  latter  being  the  first  abbot  in  Ireland  since  the 
Reformation.  The  foundation  being  laid,  the  work 
went  on,  till  what  now  meets  the  wondering  eye  was 
completed.  Not  one  of  Eve's  daughters  has  contami- 
nated its  purity,  for  the  work  is  wholly  performed  by 
the  monks,  and  the  housekeeping  does  honor  to  the 
establishment ;  the  cleanliness  and  the  arrangements 
coinciding  with  those  of  the  Shakers  of  America. 

They  retire  a  quarter  before  eight,  and  rise  at  two, 
when  the  bell  of  the  chapel  is  rung,  and  they  perform 
private  devotion  till  six  ;  then  mass  is  performed  in 
the  chapel,  and  each  goes  to  his  respective  labor.  Per- 
fect silence  is  enjoined  for  certain  hours  of  the  day, 
when  they  make  known  their  wants  by  signs.  They 
have  a  mechanic's  shop  where  tailors,  cabinet-makers, 
saddlers,  shoe-makers,  carpenters,  weavers,  &c.,  per- 
form their  work  ;  and  likewise  a  printing-press.  All 
the  labor  is  performed  by  the  monks.  They  have 
twenty  cows,  a  good  stock  of  horses,  and  sheep  and 
fowls  of  all  kinds  ;  and  though  they  eat  no  flesh  them- 
selves, they  present  it  in  all  its  varieties  to  those  who 
visit  them.  So  economical  are  they  of  time,  that  dur- 
ing meals,  one  stands  in  an  elevated  pulpit,  reading 
and  lecturing,  that  no  time  may  be  lost  in  idle  words  at 
table. 

The  following  Sabbath  I  had  appointed  to  visit  and 
read  to  an  old  woman  upon  the  mountain,  and  we  heard 
a  sermon  in  the  chapel.  The  sight  of  nearly  a  hundred 
monks,  dressed  in  priestly  robes,  with  all  the  accompa- 
niments of  grandeur,  cannot  fail  deeply  to  impress 
a  credulous  people.  When  the  deep-toned  organ  was 
swelling  upon  my  ear,  when  the  incense  was  ascending, 
and  the  people  bowing  to  the  floor,  a  kind  of  awe  fell 
upon  me,  as  I  thought  of  the  days  of  the  church's  former 
greatness,  and  what  she  is  still  destined  to  be  and  to 
do.  The  subject  of  the  sermon  was  that  of  the  guests 
at  the  wedding  taking  the  highest  seat,  and  the  preacher 
expatiated  beautifully  and  scripturally  upon  the  sin  of 
pride,  referring  to  Lucifer,  Nebuchadnezzar,  Belshazzar, 
and  Herod.     He  dwelt  on  the  depravity  of  man,  and 


CHAP.  VII.]  CO.  OF  WATERFORD.  121 

his  liability  to  fall,  saying  he  had  a  dead  soul  in  a  liv- 
ing body,  exhorted  them  to  be  faithful  in  the  penance 
of  confession,  to  ask  Jesus  to  forgive  them,  and  the 
Blessed  Virgin  to  pray  for  them.  He  was  in  look, 
manner,  and  eloquence,  one  of  the  most  finished  speci- 
mens of  public  speakers  I  had  ever  heard.  His  dress 
was  becoming,  and  his  figure  beautiful.  The  simple 
unostentatious  pulpit  was  a  narrow  corridor,  extending 
from  side  to  side  of  the  chapel,  parallel  with  the  gallery, 
with  a  railing  upon  each  side,  and  not  a  seat  of  any 
kind  to  rest  upon. 

My  young  and  intelligent  guide,  who  "was  a  Catholic, 
turned  into  a  part  of  the  monastery  to  light  his  pipe, 
and  left  me  to  make  my  way  down  the  mountain  alone. 


CHAPTER  Vn. 

The  spirit  of  Caste  injurious  in  Ireland— Journey  to  Youghal— the  Blessed  Well 
of  St.  Dagan — Cabin  Hospitality — Uncourteous  Reception  hy  Sir  Richard  Mus- 
grave — Rebuii  from  a  "great,  good  man" — Rejoicings  at  Lismore  for  O'Con- 
nell's  Liberation — A  Disaster — Brutality  of  an  Inn-keeper's  Son — Dungarvau 
— Two  silent  Quakeresses — Thoughts  on  Irish  Hospitality — Unsuccessful  Ap- 
plication to  Bianconi — Strong  National  Peculiarities  of  the  Irish — Unpopulari- 
ty of  stepmothers— St.  Patrick's  Well— A  Poor  Old  Woman— A  Baptist  Min- 
ister—Happy Molly. 

Of  all  the  miseries  entailed  upon  poor  Ireland,  that  of 
"  caste"  is  not  the  least,  and  in  some  circumstances  you 
may  as  well  be  a  beggar  at  once,  if  not  a  drop  of  high 
blood  can  be  found  in  your  veins,  or  if  some  title  be  not 
appended  to  your  name. 

Report  had  said  that  England  was  taking  the  liberty 
to  break  the  seals  of  letters  going  from  Ireland  to 
America,  and  to  retain  such  as  did  not  suit  her  views 
of  matters  relative  to  the  country.  I  had  been  in  Ire- 
land more  than  three  months,  had  paid  postage  on  a 
package  of  letters,  but  had  received  no  answer,  and  was 
in  much  perplexity  on  account  of  it.  Whei  about  leav- 
ing Cappoquin,  I  was  advised  by  the  good  man  of  the 
6 


122  CO.  OF  WATERFORD.  [chap.  vii. 

house  where  I  lodged,  to  call  on  Sir  Richard  Musgrave, 
who  lived  on  his  estate  a  mile  and  a  half  distant,  and 
would  give  me  information  respecting  the  transmission 
of  letters  ;  adding,  "He  is  condescending  in  manner, 
peculiarly  kind  of  heart,  a  true  friend  of  Ireland  and 
O'Connell,  and  delights  in  doing  good  to  Catholics, 
though  himself  a  Protestant."  All  these  qualifications 
were  certainly  something,  and  I  reluctantly  consented 
to  call  at  his  house.  I  found  that  he  was  not  at  his 
country  residence,  but  was  spending  a  few  weeks  on 
the  sea-shore,  at  Whiting-Bay,  eighteen  miles  distant. 
A  steamer  was  about  to  start  for  Youghal,  down  the 
Blackwater,  and  would  take  me  fifteen  miles  on  my 
way.  The  morning  was  a  little  dull,  but  the  sun  at 
ten  o'clock  broke  through  the  clouds,  and  lighted  up 
such  a  landscape  as  is  impossible  for  me  to  describe, 
for  Blackwater  scenery  is  Blackwater  scenery,  and 
nothing  else.  It  was  not  a  cloudless  state  of  mind  that 
caused  this  bright  vision  of  things,  for  I  was  going 
against  my  own  inclination  ;  but  the  reality  so  broke 
upon  me  at  every  new  winding,  that,  in  spite  of  myself, 
I  must  admire  if  not  enjoy.  A  preceding  rain  had 
given  a  lively  tint  to  tree  and  meadow,  and  nature  ap- 
peared as  in  the  freshness  of  a  May  morning,  though 
September  was  well  advanced,  and  the  yellow  hue,  con- 
trasted with  the  more  sombre  foliage  of  tree  and  haw- 
thorn with  which  meadow  and  water  were  fringed, 
heightened  the  beauty  of  the  scene.  The  cows  and 
sheep  were  grazing  upon  hill  and  dale,  and  the  song  of 
the  happy  bird  lent  its  notes  of  harmony.  If  for  a  no- 
ment  the  prospect  was  confined  by  a  short  turn  in  the 
river,  the  next  a  broad  vista  opened  which  displayed 
extended  towns,  rising  cultivated  hills,  a  stately  man- 
sion perched  upon  some  shelving  rock,  and  now  and 
then  a  mutilated  castle  or  abbey.  Five  ruined  castles 
meet  the  eye  in  sailing  fifteen  miles  upon  this  river, 
and  though  they  speak  loudly  of  the  uncertainty  of  all 
human  greatness  and  human  hopes,  yet  they  are  a  kind 
of  pleasing  proud  memento  to  the  heart  of  every  Irish- 
man, that  his  now  oppressed  country  had  once  her  men 


CHAP.  VII.]  CO.  OF  WATERFORD.  123 

of  cultivated  tastes  as  well  as  of  warlike  feats.  Wlien 
passing  through  the  vale  of  Ovoca,  I  thought  that  na- 
ture could  do  no  more  than  she  had  there  done  ;  but 
on  the  banks  of  the  Blackwater  she  showed  me  that  a 
bolder  stroke  of  her  pencil  had  been  reserved  for  this 
outline.  Let  the  traveller  gaze  upon  the  picture,  and 
tell  us,  if  he  can,  what  is  wanting. 

At  last  the  town  of  Youghal,  with  her  noble  bridge, 
met  the  eye.  The  drawbridge  was  raised  for  the 
steamer  to  pass,  and  we  saw  the  houses  extending  along 
the  sea-shore,  on  the  vicinity  of  a  hill,  commanding  a 
noble  prospect  of  the  sea.  The  busy  population  in  pur- 
suit of  gain  by  their  bartering  and  bantering,  told  us 
that  self  here-  was  an  important  item,  though  not  a 
beggar  put  out  her  hand,  invoking  "  the  blessing  of  the 
Virgin"  for  your  penny.  A  ferry-boat  put  me  safely 
on  the  other  side,  leaving  me  a  three  miles  walk,  partly 
upon  the  beach,  but  mostly  inland,  and  thus  giving  an 
opportunity  of  seeing  a  peasantry  who  speak  English 
only  when  compelled  by  necessity.  Making  inquiry 
from  cabin  to  cabin,  not  one  bawled  out,  ''  Go  along  to 
such  a  place,  and  inquire  ;"  but  each  one  left  her  work, 
sometimes  accompanied  by  two  dogs  and  thrice  the 
number  of  pigs,  and  led  me  a  distance  on  the  way,  with 
a  kind  '^  God  bless,  ye,"  at  parting.  A  troop  of  boys 
now  came  galloping  at  full  speed,  intent,  one  might 
suppose,  on  sport  or  mischief.  But  each  had  a  book 
under  his  arm  or  in  his  hand,  and  I  saw  they  were  re- 
turning from  school,  and  saluting  them  kindly,  they 
gathered  around  me,  listened  to  the  story  of  schools  in 
America,  and  earnestly  asked  such  questions  as  to  them 
seemed  important.  At  our  parting,  each  was  emulous 
to  direct  me  on  my  way,  lest  at  the  "  cross-road"  I  should 
mistake.  "  Now,  ma'am,  don't  you  take  the  left ;"  "  nor 
don't  ye  go  straight  on,"  said  a  second,  ^'  but  turn  to 
the  right,"  &c.  And  when,  like  so  many  young  deer, 
they  bounded  away,  I  blessed  God  that  the  dawn  of  edu- 
cation was  breaking  upon  Ireland,  and  that  the  genera- 
tion ^now  rising  shall  feel  its  genial  raj,  and  by  her 


124  CO.  OF  WATERFORD.  [chap.  vii. 

power  have  tlie  independence  to  assert  tlieir  country's 
heaven-born  rights. 

But  the  great  man  was  not  yet  reached,  and  I  was 
weary  with  walking.  A  little  girl  with  a  heavy  bur- 
den on  her  back,  said, ''  And  is  it  Sir  Musgrave,  ma'am, 
ye  would  see  .''  you  should  go  up  that  road,  ma'am,  and 
the  way  is  much  shorter."  That  road  had  long  since 
been  passed,  but  the  girl  added,  "  Ye  are  on  the  road 
to  the  Blessed  Well."  "  Blessed  Well !  what  is  that .?" 
"  I  don't  know,  ma'am,  only  people  goes  there  to  pray." 
This  reconciled  me  a  little  to  the  mistake  of  the  path ; 
and  walking  on,  a  clump  of  trees  was  pointed  out  as  the 
sacred  place.  There  was  something  superstitiously 
pleasant  in  the  appearance  and  associations  about  this 
well.  It  was  eighteen  hundred  years  ago  since  Jesus, 
*^  weary  with  his  journey,  sat  down  on  the  well,"  and 
the  woman  of  Samaria  came  out  to  draw  water.  Here 
was  a  spot  where  thousands  had  knelt,  and  drank,  and 
gone  away  as  dark  as  they  came  ;  ignorantly  supposing 
that  some  saint  had  sanctified  its  waters.  As  I  was 
musing,  a  young  damsel  like  Rebecca  of  old,  with 
a  large  brown  pitcher,  ''  came  hither  to  draw."  She 
was  '\fair  to  look  upon."  I  saluted  her,  she  answered 
pleasantly  in  Irish,  and  after  filling  her  pitcher  walked 
away.  Never  did  that  living  water  of  which  Jesus  told 
the  woman  of  Samaria  look  more  precious  than  now ; 
never  had  I  more  ardently  desired  to  tell  a  benighted 
traveller  "  the  way,  the  truth,  and  the  life  ;"  but  I  could 
not  speak  her  language,  neither  could  I,  like  Jesus,  have 
told  her  "  all  that  ever  she  did."  How  many  of  these 
sincere  devotees  who  come  here  to  drink,  have  ever 
tasted  of  the  well  of  salvation,  God  alone  must  decide. 

A  large  stone,  with  a  wooden  cross  fixed  in  it,  stands 
at  the  head  of  this  well,  and  a  beautiful  tree  waves 
over  the  whole.  St,  Dagan,  we  are  told,  blessed  this 
water  some  hundred  years  ago ;  and  so  efficacious  has 
it  been,  that  cripples,  who  came  on  crutches,  have  gone 
away  leaping  and  praising  St.  Dagan,  and  the  blind 
have  been  made  to  see.     So  infatuated  have  been  its  de- 


CHAP.  VII.]  CO.  OF  WATERFORD.  125 

votees,  that  the  bishop  has  thought  it  expedient  to 
prohibit  its  resort,  as  being  a  place  where  miracles  are 
no  more  to  be  expected.  So  unmindful  was  I  of  its 
healing  virtues,  that  I  actually  turned  away  without 
tasting  its  waters.  Fearing  I  had  gone  astray,  I  made 
my  way  to  a  cabin  door  through  mud  and  jfilth  ;  here  a 
woman  pointed  me  to  the  house  of  the  great  man,  and 
added,  "  May-be  ye  are  wairy,  and  would  like  to  sit 
down  a  bit."  I  gladly  accepted  the  invitation,  and 
followed  my  guide  into  the  small  cabin.  Here  were 
two  men  sitting  upon  a  table  in  a  corner,  an  old  man 
smoking,  and  a  wretched-looking  woman,  who  like  me 
was  weary  with  her  journey,  and  had  ''  turned  in 
hither,"  and  was  sitting  upon  the  ground.  In  the  cen- 
tre of  the  room  stood  the  dinner  table,  with  the  re- 
mains of  the  potatoes  on  which  the  family  had  been 
dining.  A  tub  of  potato-skins  and  water  stood  near 
the  table,  from  which  two  huge  matronly  swine,  and 
eleven  young  sucklings,  were  eating  their  dinner,  and 
I,  in  return  for  the  civility  shown  me,  could  do  no  less 
than  extol  the  beauty  of  the  little  honnelsj  and  the 
fine  bulk  of  the  mother.  The  mistress  took  a  wooden 
bowl,  mashed  a  few  fine  potatoes  into  it  with  her  hands, 
and,  adding  milk,  called  a  couple  of  more  favored 
ones,  and  fed  them  from  it.  Upon  a  cupboard  stood  a 
plate  of  tempting  well-cooked  potatoes,  and  I  asked 
leave  to  take  one.  This  was  the  signal  for  a  fresh  ef- 
fusion of  kindness,  and  the  good  woman  left  her  pets 
to  their  own  guidance,  and  selected  with  her  hands  one 
one  of  the  finest,  divested  it  of  its  coat  with  her  nails,  and 
handed  it  to  me.  I  was  caught  in  my  own  trap,  and 
was  obliged  to  surrender  ;  and  before  the  first  was  mas- 
ticated, a  second  was  in  readiness,  and  so  on,  till  I  was 
positively  obliged  to  refuse  the  fourth,  much  to  the 
grief  of  the  good  woman,  who  was  "  in  dread"  lest  I 
should  go  away  hungry. 

"  Sir  Richard,"  said  the  old  man,  putting  his  pipe  in 
his  pocket,  "  will  sartainly  consider  your  case.  He  is 
a  good  man,  and  his  wife  is  a  kind  woman."  And  now, 
with  three  fine  potatoes  in  my  stomach,  and  thrice  the 


136  CO.  OF  WATERFORD.  [chap.  vii. 

number  of  "blessings  on  my  head,  I  departed  to  the 
"  great  man's"  abode.  The  sea  was  dashing  against 
the  gravelly  beach  at  the  front  of  the  dwelling ;  an  air 
of  comfort  was  shed  around  ;  and  when  the  porter  re- 
sponded to  my  knock,  and  had  gone  to  present  my  card, 
I  looked  about  the  hall,  and  seeing  no  false  appendages 
of  greatness,  and  being  soon  invited  into  the  parlor  by 
the  gentleman  himself,  I  felt  as  much  at  ease  as  when 
eating  my  potatoes  in  the  cabin.  I  introduced  myself, 
and  the  object  of  my  errand,  while  he  peered  at  me 
over  his  spectacles,  and  seemed  to  listen  with  attention. 
He  read  my  letter  of  introduction,  and  returned  it 
without  note  or  comment.  I  stated  the  exigencies  of 
my  case,  as  a  stranger  in  a  strange  land,  and  asked  if 
he  could  give  any  information  as  to  whether  the  Eng- 
lish government  had  really  taken  the  liberty  to  open 
and  retain  letters.  He  looked  silently  upon  me,  with  a 
gaze  which  seemed  to  say,  "  1  wish  this  insignificant 
woman  could  finish  her  story,  and  let  me  return  to  my 
lunch."  "  I  maybe  keeping  you  from  dinner,  sir."  "  I 
was  taking  lunch,  madam  ;  my  dinner  hour  is  five." 
*'  Do  you  know,  sir,  and  will  you  tell  me,  whether  you 
think  this  report  true  or  false  .^"  No  answer  :  he  took 
out  his  watch ;  I  understood  the  signal,  and  rose  to 
depart.  "  I  can  give  you  no  advice  on  this  subject." 
As  I  was  going  into  the  hall  he  said,  *' May  be  you 
would  take  something  to  eat."  *'  I  am  not  hungry,  sir," 
replied  I.  My  heart  rejected  this  coldly  proffered 
bread.  Then  did  the  cabin  woman's  potato  look  doubly 
valuable,  and  I  blessed  God  that  he  had  left  some  poor 
in  the  world,  that  every  vestige  of  humanity  and  kind 
feeling  might  not  be  swept  from  the  earth.  The  heart 
of  a  stranger  was  emphatically  mine.  I  had  travelled 
a  distance  of  twenty  miles  for  the  privilege  of  being 
treated  with  the  coldest  indifference  by  a  titled  gentle- 
man. Yet  I  was  not  sorry.  I  at  least  learned  some- 
thing. This  man  was  celebrated  for  his  urbanity  of 
manners  and  kindness  of  heart ;  the  well  intentioned 
friends  who  advised  me  to  apply  to  him  were  certain 
that  ho  would  solve  my  difficulties  ;  and  I  had  gone 


CHAP.  VII.]  CO.  OF  WATERFORD.  137 

more  in  complaisance  to  their  good  feelings,  ttan  from 
a  favorable  opinion  of  the  undertaking  on  my  part.  I 
had  visited  Ireland  to  see  the  poor,  to  learn  its  man- 
ners and  customs,  and  how  they  would  treat  American 
strangers  in  any  and  every  condition.  I  was  placed  in 
peculiar  circumstances,  and  a  few  kind  words,  if  they 
would  not  have  helped  me  out  of  my  dilemma,  would 
have  cost  him  but  little,  and  have  been  grateful  to  me. 
But  not  even  a  generous  look  could  be  gained,  and  I 
hoped  my  friends  would  see  that  this  boasting  of  the 
benevolence  of  great  men  is  often  but  boasting,  and 
whoever  follows  them  to  get  good,  will  generally  find 
himself  in  pursuit  of  an  ignis  fatuus,  which,  perchance 
may  land  him  in  a  quagmire. 

The  sail  back  upon  the  enchanting  Blackwater  was 
if  possible  more  pleasant  than  in  the  morning.  The 
setting  sun  cast  a  mellow  light  on  tower,  castle,  ivied 
abbey,  and  tree  ;  and  the  vesper  song  of  the  bird,  seek- 
ing its  shelter  for  the  night,  had  a  soothing  effect  upon 
my  mind  after  my  zig-zag  pursuit  of  Irish  aristoc- 
racy. 

To  atone  for  yesterday's  adventure,  the  good  people 
of  the  lodging-house  advised  a  ramble  to  Lismore,  as 
castles,  bridges,  and  churches,  besides  "  Lord  Devon- 
shire" himself,  were  all  there.  A  plain-looking  man 
offered  his  services  as  my  guide,  for  Lismore  was  on 
his  route  home,  and  he  knew  every  nook  and  corner 
"  right  well,"  and  would  show  me  all  with  the  greatest 
pleasure.  But  we  must  take  a  circuitous  road,  and 
call  on  another  ''  great  and  good  man,"  who  could 
not  give  an  unkind  look,  for  he  was  "  made  up  of  good- 
ness." In  vain  I  pleaded  my  excuses  ;  my  guide  was 
a  familiar  acquaintance  of  the  gentleman's,  and  could 
remove  all  impediments  to  an  introduction,  and  I  was 
obliged  to  yield.  We  went  over  gravelled  walks, 
through  rich  lawns,  and  sheltered  pathways,  till  behind 
a  high  wall  we  saw  the  numerous  chimneys  of  this 
''  great  and  good  man."  He  was  a  Scotchman  and  a 
Presbyterian.  A  laborer  on  the  top  of  the  wall  called 
out,  "  The  master  is  at  dinner,  and  cannot  be  seen." 


128  CO,  OF  WATERFORD.  [chap.  vk. 

A  nurse  with  a  sweet  infant  in  her  arms  was  sitting 
upon  a  stile,  and  half  an  hour  was  beguiled  in  listen- 
ing to  the  good  qualities  of  both  master  and  mistress, 
till  the  kind  girl,  eager  to  acquaint  the  hospitable 
woman  that  an  American  lady  was  without,  hastened 
in,  and  I  saw  her  no  more.  "  The  master  is  coming," 
said  my  guide,  "  and  I  will  go  and  tell  him  who  you 
are."  He  did  so,  and  I  was  a  mile  on  my  way  to  Lis- 
more,  when  he  overtook  me,  muttering  that  the  man  had 
returned  from  giving  orders  to  his  men,  and  they  went 
to  the  stile,  and  no  American  was  there.  I  had  stop- 
ped a  full  half  hour  for  the  hospitable  mistress,  who 
knew  I  was  in  waiting,  and  then  went  away.  Not  a 
cabin  in  all  Ireland  would  have  treated  a  stranger 
thus. 

But  leaving  the  "  good  and  great  man,"  let  us  walk 
to  the  pleasant  town  of  Lismore. 

When  my  guide  had  conducted  me  to  the  town,  and 
showed  me  into  the  celebrated  church,  which  in  the 
days  of  the  never-forgotten  Cromwell  was  defaced, 
and  taken  possession  of  by  the  Protestants,  he  abruptly 
took  leave,  saying,  ^^  I  hove  showed  ye  all  I  can."  I 
stood  alone  in  the  midst  of  that  venerable  pile,  looking 
at  its  pictures  and  stained  glass  windows,  through 
which  the  setting  sun  shed  a  mellow  light,  throwing 
upon  its  walls  a  softened  sadness,  which,  as  the  flicker- 
ing rays  died  away,  seemed  to  say,  "  The  glory  of  Erin 
is  departed." 

The  town  was  in  high  glee,  for  O'Connell  was  libe- 
rated. One  of  the  newspaper  editors  who  had  been 
imprisoned  with  him  was  there,  and  bonfires  blazed  in 
various  places,  their  smoke  giving  to  the  tasteful  little 
town  the  appearance  of  a  reeking  furnace.  I  hastened 
to  the  bridge,  to  look  at  the  castle  of  the  Duke  of  De- 
vonshire. It  is  situated  upon  an  elevated  site,  overlook- 
ing the  romantic  Blackwater. 

Three  miles  and  a  half  were  before  me,  and  night 
was  gathering  around.  So  absorbed  was  I  in  looking 
at  the  never-tiring  beauties  of  the  scenery,  and  so 
thick  were  the  hedge-rows  with  tempting  blackberries, 


CHAP.  VII.]  CO.  OF  WATERFORD.  129 

that  by  the  time  the  curtain  of  night  had  descended  I 
found  I  had  lost  my  spectacles  !  This  was  the  ultimatum 
of  all  the  vexations  of  yesterday's  chase  after  a  "  sir," 
and  to-day's  hunt  after  a  "  great  and  good  man." 
These  spectacles  were  of  superior  excellence,  were  very 
expensive,  and  had  been  selected  in  New  York  as 
peculiarly  suited  for  travelling.  They  brought  every 
distant  mountain  and  castle  in  bold  relief  before  my 
eye,  when  riding  in  a  car'^or  coach.  Now  I  found  it 
was  truly  the  *' little  foxes  that  spoil  the  vines."  I 
had  become  so  enchanted  with  the  almost  supernatural 
beauties  of  Ireland,  that  no  troubles  could  sit  long  on 
my  heart  while  looking  upon  them  ;  but  now  this  con- 
solation was  gone.  I  sat  down  upon  a  stone  to  think 
what  I  should  do  next.  I  was  in  a  thick  wood,  three 
miles  from  Cappoquin.  The  evening  was  still  ;  the 
noise  of  joy  and  gladness  fell  upon  my  ear  from  the 
town,  and  I  bent  my  steps  towards  it.  The  light  from 
bonfires  and  barrels  of  blazing  tar,  drawn  by  noisy 
boys,  was  glimmering  through  the  trees.  Ireland  was 
rejoicing  that  O'Connell  was  free.  "  It's  many  a  long 
day  that  we  have  been  lookin'  for  that  same  to  do 
somethiu'  for  us,  but  not  ahap'orth  of  good  has  come  to 
a  cratur  of  us  yet.  We're  aitin  the  pratee  to-day,  and 
not  a  divil  of  us  has  got  off  the  rag  since  he  begun  his 
discoorse,"  said  a  peasant  woman  near  me,  not  scru- 
pulously tidy  in  her  apron  or  cap.  Making  my  way 
thorugh  the  crowd,  I  reached  the  whiskey  lodging-house. 
A  hearty  greeting  from  the  good-humored  daughter, 
who  was  attending  at  the  bar,  was  sullenly  responded 
to  by,  "  I've  lost  my  spectacles."  "  And  you've  seen 
the  good  man,  and  the  beautiful  church  of  Lismore." 
*'  I've  seen  no  good  man."  "  Oh,  the  cratur's  weary  ! 
But  the  priest'll  find  the  spectacles,  for  he'll  cry 
'em  from  the  altar  next  Sunday."  I  retired  amid  the 
din  of  rejoicing,  and  have  heard  nothing  from  priest  or 
spectacles  since. 

Wednesday^  September  17th. — I  left  my  lodgings  be- 
fore five   in  the  morning  for   Kilkenny.     It  was  very 
cold  for  the  season.     I  knocked  at  the  door  of  the  hotel, 
6- 


130  CO,  OF  WATERFORD.  [chap.  vii. 

"where  I  was  told  the  preceding  day  that  1  must  be  at 
that  hour,  and  was  answered  bv  a  man  who  had  rushed 
from  his  bed  to  the  door  half  clad,  with  hair  erect, 
demanding  in  surly  tone  who  was  there,  and  what  was 
wanted.  "  The  car,  sir,"  "  The  car  don't  come  till 
half  after  five."  "  I'll  step  in  if  you  please,  sir,  and 
wait."  "  You  won't.  Do  you  think  I'll  set  up  for  you 
to  come  in  .?"  "  What  shall  I  do,  sir  ?"  ''  Go  back 
where  you  came  from."  ''  The  door  is  locked,  and  the 
servants  in  bed,  and  I  could  not  get  in."  "  Then  stay 
out  of  doors,"  he  shouted,  and  shut  the  door  rudely 
upon  me. 

I  did  stay  out  of  doors,  and  it  was  indeed  a  cold 
berth.  I  was  obliged  to  keep  walking,  for  no  smoke 
yet  ascended  from  cottage  or  cabin.  Upon  a  distant 
green  hillock  a  little  smoke  was  slowly  winding  up  : 
going  to  it,  I  found  it  was  a  stump  smouldering  out  its 
last  dying  embers  for  the  honor  of  O'Cohnell.  Seat- 
ing myself  beside  it  upon  my  carpet  bag,  and  stirring  it 
with  my  parasol,  I  begged  it  to  give  one  cheer  more  for 
the  long  life  of  him  for  whom  it  had  been  blazing,  and 
the  warmth  of  one  who  was  well  nigh  freezing.  A 
ragged  laborer  approached  to  light  his  pipe.  "  And 
sure  what  brings  ye  here  so  airly,  lady  .'" 

'^  The  civility  of  your  innkeeper,  sir." 

"  The  innkeeper,  ma'am,  is  a  woman  of  dacent  man- 
ners, and  wouldn't  trait  ye  so ;  it  was  the  vagabond  of 
a  son  she  keeps  about  her." 

"  And  what  has  this  decent  woman  been  doing  these 
twenty  years,  that  she  has  not  taught  this  vagabond  son 
some  of  her  good  manners  .^" 

"  Faith,  that  I  can't  tell,  and  by  your  tongue  ye 
must  be  a  stranger  in  the  country." 

I  had  only  time  to  say  that  I  was  from  America,  when 
the  horn  of  the  carman  summoned  me  from  the  com- 
pany that  had  gathered  around,  one  of  whom  called 
after  me,  "  And  do  you  think  we  will  have  the  repale  .^" 

"  I  could  wish  that  the  next  stump  by  which  you 
light  your  pipe  might  be  kindled  to  celebrate  the  jubi- 
lee of  your  freedom." 


CHAP.  Yii.]  CO.  OF  WATERFORD.  131 

It  was  affecting  to  see  bow  tlie  hearts  of  these  poor 
ill-paid  laborers  were  everywhere  intent  on  that  one 
object,  repeal.  They  feel  daily  more  and  more  the 
iron  hand  that  crushes  them  ;  and  were  it  not  that 
Father  Mathew  has  sobered  them,  and  O'Connell  is 
enjoining  "  peace,  peace,"  their  forbearance  would 
cease. 

The  sun  was  now  rising  in  a  clear  sky.  Never  had 
I  been  so  willing  to  leave  a  spot  in  all  Ireland,  but  I 
grudged  them  my  spectacles.  I  had  scarcely  found  a 
comfort  in  Cappoquin.  The  father,  son,  and  daughter 
where  I  lodged  were  employed  in  repairing  the  house, 
and  selling  ardent  spirits ;  and  though  occasionally  a 
kind  wish  was  bestowed,  I  was  left  to  carry  out  this 
kind  wish  as  well  as  I  could.  But  this  unlucky  visit 
was  not  a  fair  specimen  of  my  tour  through  Ireland  ; 
and,  even  here,  another  time  might  have  been  quite  the 
reverse. 

I  might  call  on  Sir  Richard  with  a  fresher  trimming 
on  my  bonnet,  and  receive  a  kind  answer  to  my  inqui- 
ries. The  door  of  the  estated  gentleman  might  be 
opened  if  the  hour  were  more  favorable.  I  might 
stop  at  the  same  house  when  it  was  undergoing  no 
repair,  when  the  carpets  were  laid  down  (for  they  told 
me  they  had  carpets),  and  I  might  call  at  the  door  of 
the  innkeeper  when  the  young  boor  had  risen  from  his 
lair,  when  his  hair  was  combed  and  his  face  shaven, 
and  he  might  give  me  a  complacent  ^'  walk  in,"  and  a 
seat  by  the  fire  till  the  car  should  arrive.  These  evils 
I  determined  should  not  annoy  me  ;  but  oh,  my  specta- 
cles !  I  could  not  enjoy  the  scenery  without  them,  and 
was  compelled  to  see  the  country  through  the  descrip- 
tions of  the  carman,  who  was  my  only  fellow-traveller, 
and  somewhat  intelligent. 

At  seven  we  reached  the  flourishing  sea-port  of 
Dungarvan  ;  flourishing  it  might  be,  at  least,  if  such  a 
harbor  were  anywhere  but  in  poor  Ireland.  The 
houses  are  built  with  considerable  regard  to  taste, 
and  the  population  had  the  appearance  of  more  com- 
fort   than   in  many  towns  of  Ireland  )    but  the  same 


133  CO.  OP  TIPPERARY.  [chap.  vir. 

complaint  of  poor  price  for  labor,  and  the  same  inquiry, 
"  Do  ye  think  we  shall  get  the  repale  ?"  saluted  me  from 
all  to  whom  I  spoke. 

Here  two  Quakeresses  joined  the  car,  and  rode  to 
Clonmel,  and  certainly  they  were  proofs  that  woman 
is  sometimes  silent,  for  from  nine  till  three  they  sat, 
and  scarcely  uttered  a  word.  I  made  a  few  ineffectual 
efforts  to  talk  a  little  ahout  the  country,  hut  gave  it  up 
as  hopeless.  The  Quakers  are  a  worthy  people,  but 
when  I  hear  of  the  poor  laborers  reaping  down  their 
fields  for  a  shilling  a  day,  I  cannot  but  say,  "  One  thing 
thou  lackest. " 

The  gentleman  who  had  invited  me  to  visit  him  at 
Cappoquin  was  at  the  car  when  we  arrived  there,  and 
showed  me  into  the  house,  where  much  apparent  kind- 
ness was  manifested.  And  here  let  me  remark  that 
the  Irish  peasantry  cannot  be  surpassed  in  hospitality ; 
but  in  proportion  as  independence  and  rank  are  attain- 
ed, this  hospitality  does  not  always  meet  the  stranger 
with  the  same  warmth  and  sincerity.  It  seems  to  say, 
^'  We  know  that  the  Irish  people  are  proverbial  for  their 
hospitality,  and  I  must  keep  up  the  credit  of  my  coun- 
try ;  but  had  you  not  come  to  my  house,  I  should  not 
have  troubled  myself  about  you."  I  always  managed 
well  for  myself  in  doubtfid  cases,  by  saying  that  I  had 
met  with  such  unbounded  kindness  among  the  poor  in 
Ireland,  that  I  could  not  doubt  the  national  reputation 
for  hospitality  was  well  merited  ;  and  when  I  was  in- 
vited to  partake  of  it,  I  would  not  insult  the  Irish  char- 
acter by  any  suspicion  of  sincerity  on  their  part.  I  was 
advised  to  avail  myself  of  Bianconi's  offer  to  all  foreign- 
ers, to  travel  upon  his  cars  free.  This  Italian,  who 
some  twenty  years  before  came  into  Ireland  and  went 
about  with  a  box  selling  trinkets,  had  by  dint  of  indus- 
try and  good  management  become  rich.  When  he  com- 
menced his  cars,  he  travelled  for  weeks  without  a  pas- 
senger ;  but  perseverance  conquered,  and  he  now  owns 
thirteen  hundred  horses,  and  cars  in  proportion,  and  is 
at  the  head  of  Ireland  in  this  department.  He  was  at 
this  time  mayor  of  the  town  of  Clonmel.     I  felt  a  deli- 


CHAP,  vir.]  CO.  OF  TIPPERARY.  133 

cacy  in  making  my  appeal,  but  yielded  to  the  urgent 

entreaty  of  the  friend  who  gave  so  many  assurances  of 
success  from  this  best  of  men.  My  sensitiveness  on  the 
subject  of  great  and  good  men  had  become  so  acute, 
that  if  left  to  myself  I  should  have  preferred  staying 
upon  the  lower  step.  The  request  was  made  through 
the  clerk  of  the  mayor,  my  letter  of  introduction  to  a 
friend  of  Bianconi's  being  unsealed  ;  the  result  was  a 
failure,  Bianconi  refused  ;  and  the  clerk  told  me  frankly, 
that  if  I  had  come  to  see  the  poor  of  Ireland,  I  had  come 
on  a  very  foolish  errand.  He  had  left  me  waiting  till 
the  car  had  left,  and  I  had  not  money  to  take  me  to  Ur- 
lingford  unless  I  went  that  night. 

Unhesitatingly  I  turned  to  the  gentleman  who  urged 
me  to  this  step,  and  threw  myself  upon  his  protection 
until  the  next  car  should  start.  My  stay  was  continued 
three  days,  till  I  had  seen  outwardly  the  most  interest- 
ing part  of  Clonmel.  Passing  one  evening  through  the 
churchyard,  I  saw  the  door  of  the  church  open,  and  was 
attracted  by  the  voice  of  a  child  above  ;  following  the 
sound,  it  led  me  to  a  large  upper  chamber,  where  sat  a 
man  reading  to  a  tidy  looking  woman,  amusing  herself 
with  a  child.  This  man  was  sexton  of  the  church,  and 
though  a  Protestant,  did  not  seem  so  well  suited  with 
all  the  arrangements  of  that  body  as  most  of  them  were. 
The  weekly  meetings  were  kept  up,  he  said,  but  often 
only  three  attended. 

"  And  how  do  your  Catholic  brethren  and  you  agree  .^" 
"  Very  well,"  said  the  woman  ;  "  we  find  them  quite 
obligin',  and  I  must  acknowledge  they  are  a  more  hum- 
ble people  than  the  Protestants." 

This  acknowledgment,  though  a  merited  one  so  far  as 
I  had  seen,  I  did  not  expect  from  that  source.  I  had 
seen  rich  Catholics  and  rich  Protestants,  and  seen  them 
both  similarly  circumstanced,  but  acting  quite  differently 
when  any  manifestations  of  either  pride  or  benevolence 
were  concerned. 

The  characteristics  of  an  Irishman  are  so  marked, 
that  whether  you  find  him  living  on  a  bog  or  in  a 
domain,  in  a  cabin  or  in  a  castle,  you  know  he  is  an 


134  CO.  OF  TIPPERARY.  [chap.  vii. 

Irisliman  still.  His  likes  and  dislikes,  his  love  and  ha- 
tred, seem  regulated  by  a  national  standard.  One  of 
their  deeply  infixed  characteristics  is,  hatred  to  step- 
mothers. The  poor  victim  might  as  well  enter  her  name 
on  the  black  roll,  and  make  a  league  to  become  a  witch 
at  once,  as  to  undertake  this  crusade  ;  for  indulgent  or 
severe,  idle  or  industrious,  amiable  or  unamiable,  she  is 
a  stepmother  still. 

In  this  family,  one  of  these  victims  presided,  or  ra- 
ther tarried  ;  and  the  very  atmosphere  of  the  house 
seemed  to  whisper  stepmother,  wherever  a  child  appear- 
ed. A  daughter  of  seventeen  offered  to  accompany  mo 
in  the  evening  to  the  well  of  St.  Patrick,  two  miles  from 
town,  but  this  hopeful  girl  was  not  out  of  bed  till  eleven 
in  the  morning,  and  when  the  time  arrived  she  could 
not  accompany  me,  "  she  had  no  leisure  but  on  the 
Sabbath."  The  stepmother  looked  significantly,  and 
1  inquired  if  her  daughter  had  any  business  which  was 
pressing  ? 

*'  She  lies  in  bed,  as  you  see,  taking  her  breakfast 
after  the  family  alone,  and  sits  till  dinner  time  ;  she  has 

nothing  to   do,  but   I  mustn't I'm  a  stepmother," 

giving  another  significant  look, 

I  went  alone  to  the  St.  Patrick's  well,  and  was  di- 
rected as  many  diiferent  ways  as  I  found  Paddys  to 
point  me.  At  length  two  fine  boys  left  their  sport,  and 
conducted  me  back  over  a  wall,  and  showed  me  the 
winding  path  through  shady  trees,  down  a  declivity  to 
the  dark  solitude  where  the  sacred  well  was  sparkling. 
Soft  and  pure  was  this  water,  like  most  that  I  found 
throughout  Ireland. 

Two  aqueducts  conduct  it  underground  a  little  dis- 
tance ;  it  then  forms  a  rill.  A  stone  cross  stands  near 
for  the  benefit  of  pilgrims,  and  a  decayed  church  whose 
mutilated  altar,  with  its  rude  inscription,  carried  you 
back  for  centuries,  to  the  time  when  the  Irish  Roman 
Catholic  Church  was  in  her  glory. 

Everything  about  this  frequented  spot  is  calculated 
to  fill  the  mind  with  a  chastened  if  not  religious  awe. 
The  dark  wood  behind  the  old  stone  church,  the  rip- 


CHAP.  VII.]  CO.  OF  TIPPERARY.  135 

pling  of  the  little  brook,  the  ancient  stone  cross,  the 
seclusion  of  the  spot  chosen  for  a  place  of  worship,  the 
lateness  of  the  hour,  my  distance  from  the  land  of  my 
fathers,  and  the  thought  that  this  is  the  green  spot  in 
the  ocean,  where  have  figured  and  still  live  a  people 
unlike  all  others,  filled  my  mind  with  painful,  pleasant, 
and  romantic  ideas.  But  I  must  now  leave  this  sacred 
dell,  and  though  neither  snake  or  lizard  could  coil  about 
my  feet,  yet  it  was  sunset ;  and  ascending  the  serpen- 
tine path,  I  reluctantly  left  the  enchanting  spot. 

The  first  object  I  beheld  at  the  foot  of  a  hill  when  I 
had  gained  the  road,  was  an  old  woman  with  a  sack  of 
potatoes  on  her  back,  suspended  by  a  rope  across  her 
forehead.  The  whiteness  of  her  hair,  the  deep  wrinkles 
of  her  face,  the  sadness  of  her  countenance,  and  the 
feebleness  with  which  she  tottered  when  the  burden  in- 
clined to  slide  from  her  back,  so  affected  me,  that  never 
had  the  miseries  of  Ireland  stood  before  me  in  so  broad 
an  outline  as  now. 

^'  You  are  old,  madam,  to  be  carrying  such  a  heavy 
burden  up  a  hill  like  this," 

"  Ould  and  wairy,  ma'am,  be  sure  ;  and  it's  many  a 
long  day  the  good  God  has  been  puttin'  this  on  me.  I 
must  keep  a  little  cabin  over  my  head  to  shelter  a  sick 
gal,  who  has  this  six  years  been  on  my  hands,  and 
God  xilmighty  don't  bring  her  yet." 

'^  And  have  you  any  more  children  .^" 

*'I  have  three  abroad,  I  don't  know  where.  They 
forget  their  ould  mother,  and  never  write  to  me.  I 
raired  six  of  them  after  the  father  died.  Two  are 
married  in  Ireland,  but  they  keep  away  ;  I  s'pose  they 
are  afeared  the  sick  one  would  want  something  if  they 
should  come.  I  kept  'em  all  to  school,  till,  like  the 
birds,  as  soon  as  they  could  fly,  they  left  the  nest." 

"  And  do  you  have  any  bread  .''" 

"  Not  a  hap'orth,  ma'am,  but  potatoes;  sometimes 
the  girl,  when  she  bleeds  at  the  lungs,  says  she  can't 
swallow  'em  ;  and  when  I  get  a  hap'orth,  it's  a  sup  of 
milk,  a  candle,  and  a  bit  of  turf,  and  not  afarthin'  can 
I  spare  for  her.     Sometimes  she  says,  '  If  I  could  smell 


136  CO.  OF  TIPPERARY.  [chap.  vii. 

a  little  tay,  how  it  would  revive  me,'  but  I  can't,  no,  I 
can't  git  her  a  drop.  I  never  have  begged,  ma'am,  in 
all  the  long  days  of  distress  I  have  ever  had."  "  Well, 
madam,  your  days  on  earth  are  well  nigh  finished,  and 
you  are  nearly  home."  "  Yes,  I  am  near  my  home, 
but  it's  the  heart,  ma'am,  it's  the  heart,  after  all  ;  the 
prayers  don't  do  without  the  heart.  But  the  mighty 
God  have  mercy  on  a  poor  cratur  like  me,  it's  all  I  can 
say."  She  stopped  to  adjust  her  pack,  and  T  saw  her 
no  more.  The  reality  of  this  picture  of  patient  suffering 
needed  no  aid  of  the  imagination  to  make  it  as  perfect 
a  one  as  I  had  seen.  But  in  every  place  I  go,  woman  is 
made  a  beast  of  burden  ;  and  where  this  is  allowed,  and 
men  are  not  paid  for  their  toil,  no  legislation  can  ele- 
vate a  people. 

I  turned  aside  into  a  little  chapel,  and  heard  a  Bap- 
tist minister  preach  a  sermon  to  five  auditors,  on  the 
righteous  dealings  of  God.  I  breakfasted  with  him  in 
the  morning ;  a  loaf  of  brown  bread,  butter,  tea,  and 
an  egg,  formed  his  repast.  This  simple  breakfast, 
which  may  everywhere  be  found  on  the  tables  of  the 
gentry,  is  quite  a  rebuke  on  American  extravagance. 
And  hard  as  is  the  fate  of  the  laboring  man,  I  think 
he  is  greatly  indebted  to  the  potato  for  his  flow  of 
spirits  and  health  of  body. 

This  clergyman  had  a  church  of  only  twelve,  but  in 
a  town  of  Quakers,  Roman  Catholics,  and  Protestants 
of  the  Established  Church,  who  had  occupied  the  field 
long  before  him.  Nothing,  he  said,  but  love  of  his  peo- 
ple kept  him  from  going  to  America  ;  adding,  "  My 
country  cannot  long  endure  the  miseries  she  now  suf- 
fers;  some  change  must  soon  take  place." 

The  next  day  I  was  to  leave  for  Urlingford,  and  the 
lady  of  the  house  where  I  stopped  said,  '^  You  must 
see  an  old  woman  we  have  in  our  cellar ;  she's  the  won- 
der of  us  all.  She  sleeps  on  a  handful  of  straw  upon 
some  narrow  boards,  a  few  inches  from  the  floor,  with- 
out pillow,  or  any  covering,  but  a  thin  piece  of  a 
blanket,  and  the  clothes  she  wears  through  the  day. 
She  goes  to  mass  at  five  in  the  morning,  with  a  sauce- 


CHAP.  VII.]  CO.  OF  TIPPERARY.  137 

pan,  and  fills  it  with  holy  water,  which  she  offers  to 
every  friend  she  meets,  telling  them  it  will  ensure  good 
luck  through  the  day,  and  then  sprinkles  it  about  her 
room.''  At  this  moment,  Molly,  unobserved,  stole  soft- 
ly upon  us.  When  I  met  her  laughing  eye,  and  still 
more  laughing  face,  I  could  not  refrain  from  laughing 
too.  Her  cheeks  were  red,  as  though  the  bloom  of 
sixteen  rested  upon  them  ;  her  hair  was  white,  yet  her 
countenance  was  full  of  vivacity.  She  looked  the 
"  American  lady"  full  in  the  face,  and  pressing  my 
hand,  said,  "  Welcome,  welcome  ;  good  luck,  good  luck 
to  ye,  mavourneen.  Come  into  my  place,  and  see  how 
comfortable  I  am  fixed."  We  followed  to  Happy  Mol- 
ly's cellar  ;  five  or  six  stone  steps  led  us  into  a  dark  en- 
closure, with  a  stone  floor,  which  contained  all  that 
Happy  Molly  said  she  needed. 

"  Where  do  you  sleep,  Molly  .?"  Taking  me  by  the 
arm,  she  pointed  to  the  corner,  behind  the  fire-place, 
"  Here  !  here  !  and  look,  here  is  my  blanket"  (which 
was  but  a  thin  piece  of  flannel)  "  and  here,  you  see,  is 
an  old  petticoat,  which  the  woman  where  I  stopped 
pulled  out  of  my  box,  and  tore  it  in  pieces,  ma'am,  be- 
cause I  couldn't  pay  two  pennies  for  my  rent ;  and  then, 
ye  see,  ma'am,  I  came  here,  and  praise  God  they  be  so 
kind  ;  oh,  I  couldn't  tell  ye  how  kind." 

"  Where's  your  pillow,  Molly  .?"  "  Oh  !  I  want  no 
pillow,  ma'am,  and  I  sleep  so  warm." 

''  And  where  are  your  children,  Molly  .^"  "  Some  of 
them  gone  to  God,  and  some  of  them  gone  abroad,  I 
dont't  know  where  ;  I  never  sees  them.  They  forgets 
their  ould  mother.  I  nursed  six,  and  one  for  a  lady  in 
Dublin.     I  never  gave  them  any  milk  from  the  cow.  ' 

"  Had  you  a  cow,  Molly  .?"  "  A  cow,  and  four  too, 
and  a  good  husband." 

"  And  you  are  happy  now,  Molly  .?"  "  And  why 
shouldn't  I  be  .^  I  have  good  friends,  and  enough  to 
eat,  a  comfortable  room,  and  good  bed." 

"  Where  do  you  get  your  food  .^"  "  Oh,  up  and 
down,  ma'am." 

She  did  not  beg,  but    all  who    knew   her,    when 


138  CO.  OF  TIPPERARY.  [chap.  viii. 


they   saw  her,  would  ask,   "  Well,   Molly,  have 
had  anything  to-day  .^"     If  not,  a  bit   was  given 


you 
her. 
She  is  very  cleanly,  and  always  healthy.  When  I  was 
leaving,  1  stepped  down  to  say  good-bye.  She  was 
sewing  on  a  bench  at  the  foot  of  the  stone  steps,  and 
when  she  found  I  was  going,  she  seized  my  hand,  and 
kissed  it,  saying,  "  Good  luck,  good  luck,  American 
lady,  the  good  God  will  let  us  meet  in  heaven." 

God  surely  "  tempers  the  wind  to  the  shorn  lamb" 
in  Ireland.  Such  unheard-of  sufferings  as  poor  Erin 
has  endured  have  drawn  out  all  kinds  of  character, 
except  the  very  worst. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Nunnery  at  Thurles — Monks'  School — Dialogues  on  the  Road— Grateful  Re- 
flections—Nocturnal Alarm — Affecting  Incident — A  Gay  Consumptive — Part- 
ing from  True  Friends — A  Jolly  Company — Lamentation  on  Lying — Walk  to 
Roscrea— A  Weariful  Woman — A  Centennarian — Charity  Sermon — A  Christian 
Sister— A  Poor  House— Visit  to  a  Great  Brewer— A  Funeral— Father  Mathew 

— Remarkable  Vivacity  of  the   Irish— Self   Denial— Short  Commons A 

Snug  Protestant  Farmer's  Household — Cool  Reception. 

At  eight  o'clock  in  the  evening,  I  was  again  by  the 
table  of  Mr.  B,  in  Thurles ;  and  next  morning  entered 
a  nunnery,  and  was  shown  all  the  apartments,  the  chapel, 
and  the  beautiful  garden,  which,  as  one  said,  "  is  all 
the  world  to  us  ;  here  we  live,  and  here  we  are  as  hap- 
py as  we  can  be  in  this  life."  "  I  hope  you  will  yet  be 
a  Catholic,"  said  one  kindly  to  me,  as  we  passed  out ; 
''it  is  the  only  true  church." 

They  appeared  to  be  well  informed  on  American  af- 
fairs, and  very  intelligent.  They  have  a  school  of 
girls,  and  many  of  them  Protestants.' 

"  What,"  I  asked,  ''  do  you  do  about  their  religion.^" 
*'0h,  we  don't  interfere  with  that." 

The  monks  have  a  school  of  boys,  who  are  taught  all 
branches  requisite  to  the  duties  of  life,  and  at  a  suita- 
ble age  are  apprenticed  to  places  where  they  still  keep 


CHAP.  VIII.]  CO.  OF  TIPPERARY.  139 

an  eye  over  them.  If  any  are  ungovernable,  after  the 
third  complaint  by  the  master,  the  monks  take  him 
away,  and  throw  him  upon  his  own  resources.  If  the 
master  is  too  severe,  he  is  removed  to  a  better  one. 

The  car  left  me  at  Thurles,  and  leaving  my  carpet- 
bag, I  set  out  to  walk  to  Urlingford,  a  distance  of  ten 
English  miles,  and  it  was  now  two  o'clock.  It  was  a 
profitable  walk,  and  not  a  lonely  one,  for  these  simple- 
hearted  people  were  meeting  me  at  every  corner,  com- 
ing out  from  their  cabins,  and  walking  "  a  bit"  with 
me  ;  inquiring  about  America,  and  telling  me  of  their 
country.  One  said,  "  We  have  a  neighbor  here  from 
America."  He  was  called  from  a  field  and  introduced ; 
"  I  have  a  great  partiality  for  the  people  in  your  coun- 
try," said  he;  "  but  I  hate  their  cursed  slavery,  and 
left  on  that  account.  I  lived  with  a  planter  who  had 
four  hundred  slaves,  to  whom  he  gave  a  peck  of  corn 
each  a  week,  and  worked  and  whipped  them  hard.  I 
could  not  bear  it,  and  left  him,  and  came  away."  To 
the  honor  of  the  Pope,  be  it  said,  that  he  has  prohibit- 
ed slavery  in  the  church.  Passing  on  to  a  company  of 
men  cracking  stones,  I  asked,  "  How  much  do  you 
earn  in  the  day.?"  ^'Ten-pence;  and  how  do  you 
think  we  can  keep  the  breath  a  goin*  with  this,  ma'am, 
and  put  a  rag  upon  the  back  t  Would  you  give  us  a 
shillin'  in  your  country  }  If  you  would  ensure  me  two 
pence  more  than  I  have  here,  I  would  start  to-morrow. 
And  do  ye  think  we  shall  get  the  rep  ale  ?  They  won't 
let  us  fight,  and,  by  dad,  I  would  fight  this  minut  if 
they  would  let  me.  We  are  oppressed  to  death  by  the 
English,  and  we  can't  live  much  longer.  What  do 
they  think  in  America  .?" 

So  anxious  are  these  sufi'ering  creatures  for  the 
repeal,  that  they  cannot  let  a  stranger  who  speaks  to 
them  pass  without  asking  the  question.  Such  a  speci- 
men of  self-control  as  they  manifest,  though  many  of 
them  are  keenly  alive  to  their  privations,  is  truly  un- 
paralleled in  any  nation.  O'Connell  now  restrains  them 
by  a  nod.     Will  he  always  be  able  to  do  so  ? 

As  I  left  these  warm-hearted  patriots,  an  old  man 


140  CO.  OF  KILKENNY.  [chap.  viii. 

told  me  I  had  three  miles  to  walk,  "  and  the  night  will 
fall  on  ye,  but  nobody  '11  hurt  ye  here,  ma'am."  I  had 
gone  a  little  distance,  when  he  called  out,  ^'  Do  ye 
belong  to  the  army  ?"  A  little  mortified,  I  begged  he 
would  not  think  I  belonged  to  that  craft.  *'  I  hope, 
sir,  you  have  not  a  bad  opinion  of  me  ?"  '^  Oh,  God 
forgive  me.  Pardon  me,  lady ;  I  had  not  such  a 
thought  of  you,  ma'am."  I  found  that  the  wives  of  the 
officers  accompanied  them,  and  he  thought  I  might  be 
of  the  number.  I  had  walked  six  and  a-half  miles  ; 
night  had  "  come  on  me,"  but  the  moon  was  now  and 
then  struggling  through  the  misty  clouds,  when  a  man 
passed  me  upon  a  jaunting-car,  and  asked  how  far  I 
had  to  walk.  "  You  had  better  get  up  and  ride ;  the 
way  is  lonely."  Gladly  I  did  so,  and  found  him  a 
plain,  common-sense  farmer,  who,  going  through  all  in- 
terrogations of  America,  and  talking  over  the  woes  of 
Ireland,  ended  by  asking,  ^'  Do  you  think  we  shall  have 
the  repale  .^" 

I  heard  a  kind  welcome  most  gladly  at  the  house  of 
Mr.  C.  in  Urlingford,  and  gave  him  a  particular  reci- 
tal of  Mount  Mellary.  Being  a  Catholic  to  the  bone, 
he  cannot  but  love  such  an  establishment  as  this.  He 
has  ever  treated  me  with  kindness,  and  placed  me 
under  obligations  for  many  little  favors,  which  as  a 
stranger  were  very  grateful  to  my  feelings.  The  re- 
membrance of  these  kindnesses  are  sweet  and  salutary 
on  a  foreign  shore,  which  none  but  a  stranger  can  fully 
appreciate.  I  went  next  to  Dr.  White's.  Of  this  family 
I  can  never  say  enough.  Never,  never  can  I  forget 
their  unparalleled,  unceasing  good-nature,  always  in  ex- 
ercise ;  never  with  any  display,  but  always  as  though 
they  were  obliged  to  me  for  accepting  it.  My  food, 
my  lodging,  my  fire,  my  walking  or  riding,  must  be  all 
for  my  highest  comfort.  The  kindness  of  this  family 
was  confined  to  no  sect  or  nation,  the  rich  or  the  poor. 
The  beggar,  too,  had  a  kind  welcome. 

A  few  mornings  after  my  return,  at  the  dawning  of 
day,  I  heard  a  loud  knocking  at  the  door,  and  supposed 
some  messenger  in  haste  had  called  for  the    doctor. 


CHAP.  VIII.]  CO.  OP  KILKENNY.  141 

This  was  followed  by  the  most  unearthly  scream,  which 
was  long  and  repeated.  I  first  tried  to  collect  myself, 
to  ascertain  whether  I  was  asleep,  in  the  body  or  out, 
for  nothing  that  was  human  like  this  had  I  ever  heard ; 
and  surely  nothing  superhuman  would  make  such  a 
shout  at  a  door  inhabited  by  man.  I  looked  out,  but 
durst  neither  arise  or  call  for  help.  The  family  and 
servants  were  all  above  ;  and  when  repeated  yells  had 
echoed  and  re-echoed,  the  servant  opened  the  door, 
and  all  was  still.  I  could  not  see  what  entered,  and 
waited  for  an  explanation,  supposing  there  must  be 
some  out-of-the-way  animal  appended  to  the  family. 
In  a  moment,  the  servant  entered  with,  "  Don't  be 
afeard,  ma'am  ;  it's  only  the  beggar  woman  that  sleeps 
out  of  doors.  She  always  comes  at  light  to  get  the 
potatoe,  and  if  I  am  not  up,  she  makes  that  scream  to 
wake  me.  She  won't  hurt  ye.  She's  innocent,  and 
goes  away  when  she  gets  the  potatoe."  This  was  the 
beggar  I  had  seen  asleep  under  the  wall,  when  going 
to  the  mines.  I  ventured  out,  and  saw  her  snugly 
sitting  on  the  hearth,  enlivening  the  turf  under  the 
pot.  She  was  more  than  good-looking  for  a  woman 
who  must  have  been  forty-five,  and  seventeen  years  of 
which  she  had  buffetted  storm  and  sleet,  snow  and 
rain,  in  open  air.  She  shrunk  from  my  rude  gaze.  I 
said  good  morning  ;  she  made  no  answer. 

"  Why  are  you  sitting  here  .?"  I  added.  "  Waiting 
for  the  potatoe,  ma'am." 

When  the  potatoes  were  ready,  she  selected  the  quan- 
tity and  quality  she  liked,  took  them  in  her  petticoat, 
and  hurried  out. 

Her  voice  was  soft,  and  her  manners  childlike,  wholly 
at  variance  with  the  terrific  scream  she  made  at  the 
door.  The  doctor  gave  me  the  history  of  this  strange 
anomaly.  "  She  was  of  a  good  family,  married  well, 
and  in  all  Ireland,"  he  added,  "  there  was  not  a  better 
housekeeper.  But  her  husband  died,  and  by  a  train 
of  misfortunes,  she  lost  all.  Her  relations  were 
treacherous,  and  she  was  at  last  ruined.  Disappointed 
and  jealous  of  the  world,  she  determined  to  leave  its 


142  CO.  OF  KILKENNY.  [chap.  viii. 

society,  and  wandered  from  home,  living  on  the  little 
money  she  had  ;  washing  her  clothes  in  the  brooks  and 
springs,  as  she  met  them  ;  keeping  herself  cleanly  for 
years  ;  sleeping  in  open  air,  wrapped  in  her  cloak, 
She  appeared  sane,  but  never  saluted  any  one,  nor 
never  asked  charity,  till  all  she  had  was  gone.  Whe- 
ther she  had  recourse  to  that  noise  as  a  defence  was 
not  known,  but  it  proved  a  sure  one.  The  police  had 
endeavored  to  take  her  into  some  shelter  from  the 
rain,  but  every  one  would  take  up  his  '  two  heels,' 
when  she  set  up  that  scream.  No  one  in  the  parish 
ever  molested  her  ;  every  child  is  afraid  of  the  yell." 
She  had  found  her  way  to  the  doctor's  house  years 
before,  and  he  had  made  her  welcome  to  a  breakfast 
and  dinner,  and  she  now  calls  at  the  dawn  of  day.  If 
the  servant  be  not  up,  she  gives  the  scream,  and  the 
door  is  soon  opened.  Twelve  is  her  dinner-hour,  and 
the  time  is  alwaj'-s  understood.  She  is  losing  her  care 
over  her  clothes  and  person,  though  she  is  quite  re- 
moved from  the  appearance  of  a  dirty  beggar.  She 
never  whines,  nor  tells  you  of  the  Blessed  Virgin,  or 
promises  prayers  ;  but  simply  asks,  in  a  pleasant  tone, 
"  will  you  give  me  some  potatoes  .^"  She  never  stops 
to  eat  them  in  the  house,  but  gives  a  short  "  Thank 
you,"  and  goes  hastily  out.  This  is  "  the  beggar  that 
sleeps  out  of  doors,"  and  the  rustic  says  to  all  who  pass, 
"  Don't  ye  disturb  her  ;  for  this  same  bawl  would 
frighten  the  life  of  ye." 

The  hereditary  sufferings  which  have  been  trans- 
mitted from  father  to  son,  through  .many  generations 
in  Ireland,  have  developed  every  propensity  of  the 
heart  in  striking  characters,  and  every  variation  of 
mind  may  be  seen  in  one  day's  walk,  by  an  attentive 
observer — from  strength  to  weakness,  from  love  to 
hatred,  and  from  right  to  wrong.     ''  Do  you  wish  to 

see  a  new  object .'"  said  Mrs.  W ,  "  step   to   the 

door."  Here  sat  upon  the  ground  a  young  woman, 
with  a  sweet  infant  in  her  arms,  her  person  genteel, 
her  feati^^  peculiarly  symmetrical ;  a  placid  blue  eye, 
finely  arched  eyebrows,  and  a  high  smooth  forehead, 


CHAP.  VIII.]  CO.  OF  KILKENNY.  143 

fair  skin,  and  brown  hair  ;  a  subdued  voice,  and  of  the 
gentlest  manners.  She  approaches  softly,  often  with- 
out speaking ;  and  if  a  piece  be  offered,  she  sits  down 
quietly,  feeding  the  infant,  which  she  always  calls 
General,  and  of  which  she  is  peculiarly  fond.  While 
eating,  she  mutters  to  herself,  often  using  the  name  of 
William. 

"  And  who  is  William  ?"  I  asked.  "  He's  my  hus- 
band, ma'am."  And  is  he  kind  to  you?"  ^' He  is 
not,  ma'am;  he  bates  me."  ''And  for  what  does  he 
beat  you  .^"  *'  Because  I  don't  bring  him  home  more 
potatoes,  ma'am."  This  was  spoken  in  the  most  child- 
like simplicity,  and  like  one  that  had  been  chastised  for 
an  alleged  fault  which  had  never  been  committed. 

Inquiring  who  or  what  she  might  be,  her  simple  his- 
tory was,  that  her  husband  was  a  brute,  and  had  so  mis- 
used her  that  she  had  become  insane,  but  perfectly  do- 
cile. He  turned  her  upon  the  street  daily,  to  beg  her 
own  bread  and  his  food  ;  and  whfea  she  returned  with  a 
scanty  supply,  he  flogged  her,  while  she  never  resisted, 
nor  upbraided  him.  As  she  adjusted  her  General  upon 
her  back,  she  muttered  something  about  her  William, 
touching  the  hearts  of  all  with  pity,  and  they  could 
only  say,  ''  Poor  thing  !  she  is  crazed."  And  no  won- 
der if  the  greater  part  of  Ireland  were  crazed.  Not  a 
week  since  I  have  landed  on  these  shores,  but  I  have 
seen  sufferers,  should  their  tale  be  told,  which  would 
move  the  pity  of  the  most  unfeeling. 

As  I  was  inquiring  one  day  of  an  old  woman  the  dis- 
tance to  a  place,  "  Ask  the  lady  to  walk  in,  and  rest 
her  a  bit,"  said  the  old  man.  I  walked  in,  and  found 
a  cleanly  swept  cabin,  a  bed  behind  the  door,  and  a 
little  pile  of  turf  and  a  couple  of  stools.  The  old  man 
had  his  spade  in  his  hand,  and  when  1  asked  him  what 
he  had  a  day,  "  Not  scarcely  enough  to  give  the  sup 
and  the  bit,  ma'am."  This  emphatically  tells  the  story 
of  the  manner  of  eating  among  all  the  peasantry.  They 
take  the  potatoe  in  the  hand,  bite  off  a  bit,  and  take  a 
sup  of  milk  from  the  cup.  "  Have  you  children  .^" 
"  Not  one  at  home.     The  last  that  staid  with  me  was  a 


144  CO.  OP  KILKENNY.  [chap.  viii. 

fine  lad  of  twenty-two.  He  was  ailin'  a  bit,  and  went 
to  bed  there,  and  slept  well  through  the  night  ;  in  the 
mornin'  he  asked  for  cold  water.  There  was  none,  and 
I  said,  '  Wait  and  I  will  go  to  the  spring.'  ^  You  can't 
go  now ;  it's  too  early,'  and  turned  away  his  face,  and 
departed.  That  was  the  last  of  my  boy,  God  be  prais- 
ed! and  now  the  father  and  I  are  alone,  and  shall  soon 
be  with  him,  for  ye  see  we  are  old,  and  toil'd  many  a 
wairy  day  to  rair  our  lads,  and  now  the  wide  waters  or 
the  grave  separate  us."  There  was  a  kind  of  pathos  in 
the  old  lady's  allusions,  which  savored  of  ancient  days, 
when,  as  Cambrensis  says  in  the  twelfth  century,  "  the 
Irish  always  expressed  their  grief  musically." 

When  I  returned  to  the  doctor's,  I  found  among  his 
beneficiaries  a  pale  young  girl  of  nineteen,  interesting 
in  her  manners,  who  had  come  there  with  threatening 
symptoms  of  a  decline.  She  possessed  all  the  Irish 
vivacity,  and  though  with  a  severe  cough  and  husky 
voice,  yet  she  was  always  in  a  cheerful  mood  ;  and  her 
lively  song  and  merry  laugh  told  you  that  her  heart 
was  buoyant,  though  pain  often  held  her  eyes  waking 
most  of  the  night.  Her  voice  was  sweet  as  the  harp, 
and  often  when  I  heard  it  at  a  distance,  could  not  pur- 
suade  myself  but  it  was  a  flute.  She  had  stored  her 
memory  with  the  songs  of  the  country,  and  her  company 
was  always  acceptable  among  her  class  on  account  of 
this  acquirement,  as  well  as  the  power  of  mimicry, 
which  she  eminently  possessed.  She  would  screen  her- 
self from  sight  behind  some  curtain,  and  go  through  a 
play,  performing  every  part,  and  sing  with  the  voice  of 
a  man  or  a  woman  as  the  case  might  require.  One 
night  she  had  been  amusing  us  in  this  way,  when  she 
appeared  from  behind  the  screen,  and  a  marble-like 
paleness  was  over  her  face.  I  said  to  her,  "  I  fear  you 
have  injured  yourself."  She  answered  not,  but  sat 
down,  and  sung  "  The  Soldier's  Grave"  in  so  pathetie 
a  manner,  that  I  wished  myself  away.  They  were 
sounds  I  had  heard  in  my  native  country,  but  never  so 
touching,  because  the  voice  that  made  them  was  so 
young,  and  probably  soon  would  be  hushed  in  death. 


CHAP.  VIII.]  CO.  OF  KILKENNY.  145 

Even  now,  while  writing,  I  hear  her  sweet  voice  hum- 
ming a  tune  in  the  chamber  where  she  sits  alone  in  the 
dark.  She  is  of  humble  birth,  and  her  mother  is  a 
widow,  and  she  has  had  no  assistance  of  education  to 
raise  her  above  the  poorest  and  most  ignorant  peasant  ; 
yet  nature  has  struggled,  or  rather  genius,  through 
many  difficulties,  and  placed  her  where,  even  now,  she 
appears  to  bettor  advantage,  than  many  who  have  been 
tolerably  educated  ;  but  the  flower  is  apparently  droop- 
ing, and  must  soon  fall  from  the  stem.  Yet  she  will 
laugh  and  sing  on,  even  when  those  about  her  are  weep- 
ing at  her  premature  decay.  Last  evening  a  dancing- 
master  came  in  with  a  little  son,  each  of  them  having  a 
fiddle  ;  and  the  music  and  dancing  commenced.  Mary 
(for  that  is  the  invalid's  name)  was  asked  to  dance  and 
complied  ;  and  with  much  ease  and  grace  performed  her 
part.  This  no  doubt  she  would  not  hesitate  to  do,  while 
her  feet  could  move,  and  she  knew  there  was  but  a  week 
between  her  and  the  grave.  From  childhood  she 
has  been  taught  to  practice  it,  till  it  is  interwoven  in 
her  very  nature,  and  has  become  part  and  parcel  of  her- 
self. 

Again  I  must  leave  these  people  and  this  family,  and 
take  a  tour  to  Roscrea ;  and  everything  was  done  to 
make  the  journey  comfortable.  A  car  and  driver  were 
provided  to  take  me  twenty  miles,  which  was  the  dis- 
tance, free  of  expense.  "  You  will  come  back  to  us,'' 
said  the  doctor  and  his  wife,  "  and_you  shall  always 
find  a  welcome  home,  and  wish  we  could  do  better." 
"  Why  is  it,"  I  said,  as  I  passed  from  the  sound  of 
these  kind  voices,  "  that  such  favors  should  be  shown 
to  me  by  these  strangers  who  had  never  seen  me,  while 
many  were  looking  on  me  with  suspicion,  and  wondering 
what  strange  fancy  should  have  brought  me  here  .^" 
They  manifested  no  fear  about  my  heretical  Protestant- 
ism, though  I  talked  freely,  and  read  the  Scriptures  in 
their  hearing  many  a  time.  They  conducted  me  to 
the  Protestant  church,  showing  me  the  way,  and  then 
turned  to  go  to  their  own.  I  felt  that  their  liberality 
in  opinion  and  conduct  was  quite  a  rebuke  on  many, 
7 


146  CO.  OF  TIPPERARY.  [chap.  vin. 

who  profess  the  guidance  of  the  Scriptures  and  the 
teaching  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 

A  letter  of  introduction  was  given  me  to  a  sistor  of 

Mr.   C of   Urlingford,  who   lived  six  miles  from 

Roscrea.  A  ride  through  a  pleasant  country,  and  on  a 
good  road,  took  us  at  sunset  in  sight  of  the  spot  where 
the  letter  was  to  be  presented.  The  boy  had  seventeen 
miles  to  travel  that  night,  and  I  sent  him  back  when  in 
sight  of  the  town,  and  made  my  way  through  all  sorts 
of  company  alone.  A  fair  had  been  held,  and  happy 
was  I  to  ascertain  that  among  all  the  motley  group,  not 
one  was  staggering,  not  one  was  boisterous,  or  disposed 
to  make  disturbance.  A  ''  God  save  ye  kindly,  lady," 
from  every  rustic,  with  his  pipe,  and  pig  and  ass  he  pur- 
chased at  the  fair ;  and  the  women  with  their  burden 
on  their  backs  did  the  same.  Could  I  fear  from  such  a 
people  as  this  ^ 

I  reached  the  house  of  the  shopkeeper,  and  present- 
ing my  dread  letter,  was  kindly  received,  and  kindly 
entertained.  The  master  had  grown  rich  by  dint  of 
the  best  of  management  ;  his  father,  it  is  said,  having 
given  him  a  barrel  of  flour,  telling  him  to  make  his  for- 
tune on  that,  which  he  did.  He  was  a  baker,  now  a 
thrifty  shopkeeper.  But  I  had  a  little  cause  of  regret 
here,  for  I  heard  one  evening  loud  talking  and  singing 
over  head,  and  one  of  the  sons  apologised  by  saying  a 
few  friends  had  walked  in  to  spend  the  evening  by 
themselves.  *'  Will  you  go  up  and  see  them  }  If  you 
wish  to  see  all  Ireland,  there  is  a  part  of  it,  and  they 
will  be  proud  to  see  you."  Without  getting  my  an- 
swer, he  went  to  the  room,  and  told  the  company  an 
American  lady  was  wishing  to  see  them.  "  Welcome, 
welcome.  Bid  her  speed."  I  entered,  and  found  six 
men  and  two  girls,  who  had  been  drinking  till  quite 
merry. 

"  What  will  ye  have,  lady  ?  We  are  glad  to  see  an 
American."  "  I  am  a  tetotaler,  and  wish  you  were 
all  the  same."  I  soon  found  this  was  no  place  for  exhor- 
tation. They  had  taken  a  little  beyond  the  "  modera- 
tion," and  when  one  cried  one  thing,  and  one  another, 


CHAP.  VIII.]  CO.  OF  TIPPERARY.  147 

I  was  quite  glad  to  make  my  courtesy,  after  being  told 
by  an  old  man  that,  beggin'  my  pardon,  he  believed  I 
was  a  nonsensical  woman,  goin'  about  the  country. 
They  all  cried  out,  *'  A  blackguard,  she  is  a  dacent 
body."  And  1  was  glad  to  make  my  escape  from  this 
hornet's  nest ;  but  my  lecture  to  the  family,  when  I 
went  down,  was  still  more  unpalatable  ;  for  they  sold 
the  "  good  creature"  moderately  ;  and  "  what  right  had 
I  to  trouble  myself?"  seemed  to  be  the  feeling,  when  I 
was  treated  hospitably,  though  this  was  not  said.  Some 
unpleasant  things  followed,  in  which  a  servant  was  in- 
volved, which  I  regretted  ;  for  though  she  was  blame- 
able,  yet  she  did  as  most  servants  do  in  all  Ireland,  and 
did  as  she  was  trained  ;  and  leaving  all  personalities 
out  of  the  question,  I  would  say,  that  the  habit  of 
teaching  servants  to  say  the  "  mistress  is  out,"  and  tell- 
ing lies  of  convenience,  leads  to  most  serious  conse- 
quences. And  though  this  is  not  confined  to  Ireland, 
yet  here  it  has  full  play  ;  and  not  among  Roman  Ca- 
tholics only — all,  all  are  poisoned,  and  often  have  I 
found  myself  totally  led  wrong  by  some  wink  or  in- 
uendo  from  the  mistress  to  the  servant,  and  when  I 
have  admonished  the  servant,  "  What  can  I  do  .^  I 
must  please  the  mistress,  or  lose  the  place."  The  habit 
of  deceiving,  if  it  can  be  done  adroitly,  without  detec- 
tion, and  answer  the  present  demand,  is  not  thought 
sinful  by  many  from  whom  I  should  have  expected  bet- 
ter things.  The  lower  order  are  always  in  the  fault, 
when  this  habit  is  mentioned  ;  but  children  and  ser- 
vants are  what  their  mothers  and  mistresses  make  them, 
in  most  cases. 

I  was  once  seated  at  a  dinner- table  in  a  fashionable 
Protestant  family  ;  and  the  mother,  who  was  a  widow, 
had  three  young  daughters  at  her  side,  when  she  enter- 
tained her  guests  with  a  recital  of  a  cunning  lie,  deeply 
laid,  which  succeeded  happily,  in  cautioning  a  young 
man  to  do  better  ;  and  she  ended  by  saying,  "  Did  I  not 
do  it  admirably  }  He  never  detected  the  lie  ;  and  don't 
you  think  I  am  a  good  manager  .^"  All  answered  in 
the  affirmative,  that  it  was  most  excellently  done.     The 


148  CO.  OF  TIPPERARY.  [chap.  viii. 

daughters  joined  in  the  acclamation,  and  all  went  off 
most  flatteringly.  The  servant  was  in  the  room  when 
part  of  this  happy  lie  was  related. 

Is  this  a  solitary  case  ?  I  wish  it  were  ;  but  many  of 
the  like  have  1  met  all  over  Ireland.  I  speak  not  in  anger, 
but  in  kindness.  It  is  a  dangerous  evil ;  an  evil  which, 
when  diffused  through  society,  is  a  fatal  blot  upon  the 
character  ;  and  here  let  me  beg  you  not  to  deceive  your- 
selves, supposing  that  it  is  confined  to  Protestants  or 
Romans,  higher  or  lower  order  ;  it  is  everywhere. 

In  the  city  of  New  York,  some  five  years  ago,  the 
female  members  of  a  congregation  appointed  a  meeting 
to  agree  that  they  would  employ  no  more  Catholic  ser- 
vants, because  they  were  so  intriguing,  and  their  chil- 
dren, who  must  be  in  contact  with  them,  were  learning 
to  be  deceptive  and  be  liars.  Thus  these  girls  must 
lose  their  places,  because  they  practised  what  they  had 
supposed  was  praiseworthy.  When  I  mingled  in  so- 
ciety in  this  country,  I  could  see  no  difference  in  any 
religion  or  party  ;  I  found,  to  my  sorrow,  all  were  im- 
plicated, with  exception  of  some  few  families,  and  the 
peasantry  of  the  mountains.  "  Where  is  boasting  then  ^ 
it  is  excluded." 

Pardon  this  digression,  and  pardon  this  preaching. 
It  is  not  my  ill-will  towards  Ireland,  but  my  good-will ; 
it  is  not  my  hatred,  but  my  love,  that  makes  me  speak 
thus.  I  would  that  she  had  not  a  stain  upon  her  gar- 
ments. 1  would  that  all  I  have  said  on  this  point  were 
an  error. 

"  But  you  would  be  a  very  unsafe  guest,"  said 
a  shrewd  lady,  very  much  given  to  this  fashionable  in- 
trigue, "  if  you  are  seeing  and  exposing  these  habits." 
Unsafe  indeed  !  unsafe  !  I  cannot  sympathize  with 
such  unsafety.  I  never  was  afraid  any  stranger  would 
come  in  contact  with  myself  and  servants,  lest  they 
should  detect  our  intrigues.  The  family  where  I  was 
stopping  had  treated  me  kindly,  and  had  done  no  un- 
common wrong  ;  but  I  ventured  to  tell  them  the  wrong, 
which  was  certainly  taking  great  liberty  as  a  guest ;  and 
I  would  not  place  them  behind  any  family  of  the  gentry 


CHAP.  VIII.]  CO.  OF  TIPPERARY.  149 

in  activity  in  business,  hospitality  to  the  poor,  thrifty 
management,  and  respectability,  as  the  world  has  bap- 
tized it. 

After  this  night's  encounter  I  made  myself  ready  to 
depart,  having  staid  a  day  longer  than  I  intended  ; 
and  I  left  at  an  early  hour,  to  walk  six  miles  to  Ros- 
crea.  My  kind  friends  sent  a  boy  with  an  ass  and 
car  to  carry  me,  which  overtook  me  in  sight  of  the 
town.  I  was  fatigued  ;  a  hill  was  before  me,  and  a  mile 
to  the  place.  I  got  upon  the  car  ;  the  obstinate  ass  ab- 
solutely refused  to  receive  and  carry  the  burden.  In 
spite  of  the  beating  of  the  boy,  and  the  kind  coaxing  of 
myself,  he  was  as  obstinate  as  an  ass  still ;  and  I  left 
the  wayward  brute  and  boy  to  manage  as  they  liked, 
and  walked  into  the  romantic  town  of  Roscrea,  among 
ruins  of  castles,  abbeys,  &c.,  some  built  by  the  Danes, 
some  in  the  year  1200,  and  all  going  to  decay.  The 
people  here  appeared  better  dressed  ;  the  women  wear- 
ing bonnets  and  shoes  more  generally,  and  their  gowns 
not  pinned  up. 

Protestants,  Catholics,  and  Methodists,  have  their 
churches  here,  and  I  was  told  that  tolerable  good  feel- 
ing exists  among  them  all.  Being  detained  by  rain  in 
the  house  where  I  lodged,  I  had  opportunity  to  see  a 
little  more  of  domestic  life  in  a  Protestant  whiskey- 
house.  The  old  lady  had  some  higher  notions  of  clean- 
liness than  all  her  Irish  neighbors,  saying  she  had 
caught  them  by  travelling  in  England.  She  was  lame, 
and  could  not  walk  ;  but  for  the  poor  servant's  sake,  I 
could  have  wished  the  lameness  were  in  her  tongue. 
This  servant  she  employed  for  the  paltry  sum  of  four 
bhillings  a  quarter,  leaving  her  to  make  out  the  remain- 
der by  the  low  practice  of  begging  from  lodgers  and 
guests.  Whether  this  poor  girl  was  at  work  or  at  play, 
doing  right  or  doing  wrong,  all  was  the  same  ;  she  al- 
ways went  out  when  she  should  stay  in,  and  stayed  in 
when  she  should  be  out.  She  was  young,  unused  to 
service,  and  "  tremblingly  alive"  to  please  her  mistress, 
but  never  succeeded.  This  woman  was  Solomon's  "  con- 
tinual dropping  in  a  very  rainy  day."     It  was  a  cold 


150  CO.  OF  TIPPER ARY.  [chap.viii. 

wet  day  ;  I  could  not  stay  in  a  fireless  room,  and  was 
obliged  to  see  all  that  passed.  When  any  one  called  for 
a  dram,  lame  as  she  was,  with  a  soft  voice  and  happy 
smile,  she  would  hobble  to  the  whiskey  room,  and  fill  a 
glass. 

It  was  a  market  day,  and  a  goodly  company  of  five 
came  in,  and  made  the  cleanly  kitchen  a  depot  for  their 
market  lumber,  much  to  the  annoyance  of  the  old  lady  ; 
who,  though  she  pleasantly  invited  them,  yet  wondered 
how  they  dared  be  so  impudent  the  moment  they  had 
gone  out.  But  at  evening,  when  this  family  came  in, 
and  the  father  asked  the  mother  what  she  would  drink, 
and  what  he  should  get  for  the  children,  it  was  lovely 
indeed.  The  mother  drew  near  this  gate  of  death,  tak- 
ing her  children,  notwithstanding  all  my  entreaties  to 
leave  them  out  of  the  gulf,  and  the  children  all  declaring 
they  did  not  want  it.  But  the  father  said  his  children 
should  fare  as  well  as  he  did,  and  so  all  swallowed  the 
liquid  fire  together. 

Finding  I  was  from  America,  the  good  man  invited 
me  to  his  house,  for  he  intended  selling  ofi",  and  going 
there  ;  and  the  boys  said  they  would  have  the  lumpers 
boiled  at  seven  o'clock  on  the  following  Monday,  if  I 
would  walk  the  five  miles  to  enjoy  them.  This  I 
promised  to  do  if  possible,  and  said  good  night.  '^  A 
tine  family,  that,"  said  my  lame  hostess  ;  ''  he  is  a  great 
farmer,  has  some  hundreds  in  the  bank,  and  if  he  goes 
to  America,  he  don't  go  empty  handed."  So  much  for 
the  salutary  effects  of  the  whiskey  on  the  kind  heart 
of  the  old  lady,  towards  this  annoying  family. 

The  next  day  was  the  Sabbath,  and  I  inquired  for 
the  clean  Testament  which  the  good  woman  had  told  me, 
the  day  previous,  had  always  been  kept  clean.  It  was 
locked  in  a  drawer,  and  the  good  woman,  after  consider- 
able fixing,  prepared  the  key,  and  produced  the  tidy- 
kept  book.  It  certainly  spoke  well  for  cleanliness, 
for  a  leaf  had  not  been  ruffled,  nor  a  page  sullied 
by  the  wicked  finger  of  man  or  woman.  It  had  been 
as  securely  kept  as  the  Roman  Catholic  man,  in  a 
neighboring  parish,  told  me  he  kept  his — he  "  tied  a 


CHAP.  VIII.]  CO.  OF  TIPPERARY.  151 

string  about  it."  When  I  had  carefully  used  this  trea- 
sure, it  was  looked  up  again,  and  I  saw  it  nor  its  precepts 
any  more,  till  I  left  the  house. 

Among  the  crowds  that  returned  from  early  mass, 
was  an  old  woman  of  one  hundred,  quite  sprightly,  and 
who  never  fails  of  being  every  morning  early  sitting  on 
the  gallery  steps  ;  and  as  passengers  go  in,  they  drop  a 
little  into  her  hand.  I  found  many  old  people  in  this 
town,  as  well  as  in  all  towns  I  had  visited  in  Ireland  ; 
and  not  in  any  case  had  \  found  one  who  had  lost  his 
faculties. 

I  went  to  the  Protestant  Church  alone,  and  was 
twice  asked  by  the  sexton  if  there  was  no  person  in 
the  town  with  whom  I  was  acquainted.  *^  Not  one," 
I  answered.  "  Not  any  one  .^"  "  No,  sir,  not  any  one," 
at  the  same  time  telling  him  where  I  lodged.  "  I  will 
put  you  in  his  seat  then."  O  !  what  a  thousand  pities 
I  had  not  borrowed  a  gold  ring  ! 

The  sermon  was  a  charity  one,  and  the  introduction 
an  encomium  on  the  Christianity  of  the  English  ;  her 
disinterested  benevolence,  that  though  she  was  particu- 
lar to  gather  her  own  brood,  yet  she  was  willing  that 
all  should  have  the  benefit  of  her  wings  ;  that  all  deno- 
minations, though  not  of  her  church,  were  receiving 
bountifully  of  her  kindness.  Some  wicked  intruder 
whispered  in  my  ear,  that  moment,  "  tithes  !  tithes  ! 
take  all  the  poor  unbeliever  has  ;  but  pay  me  my 
tithes."  He  ended  his  sermon  beautifully  and  scrip- 
turally  by  saying,  that  nothing  at  the  last  day  would 
be  accounted  as  benevolence,  but  what  was  attended 
with  self-denial.  The  landholders,  he  said,  would  have 
a  great  account  to  give  ;  for  his  part  he  would  rather 
be  a  beggar  than  be  rich,  and  iave  a  heart  to  join 
house  to  house  and  field  to  field,  instead  of  giving  to 
the  poor,  and  "  dispersing  abroad."  Excellent  the- 
ology !  if  Mene  Tekel  be  not  written  on  the  practice. 

When  I  returned  from  church,  some  potatoes  were 
crisping  on  a  nice  gridiron  for  me,  which  the  father 
had  put  there.  A  son  of  twenty-five  was  called  in  to 
dinner,  and  told  his  mother  that  the  old  jackass,  his 


152  CO.  OF  TIPPERARY.  [chap.  viii. 

father,  had  taken  the  best  gridiron  to  crisp  my  pota- 
toes, and  utterly  refused  taking  any  dinner  on  that 
account.  He  staid  in  the  kitchen  while  I  ate  my 
potatoes,  with  his  back  towards  me.  What  were  the 
peculiar  virtues  of  this  gridiron  I  did  not  learn  ;  but, 
by  way  of  apology,  the  mother  told  me  that  this  "  old 
jackass"  was  a  stepfather. 

Monday  morning,  rose  at  five,  to  meet  my  engage- 
ment with  the  boys,  where  the  lumpers  were  to  be  in 
readiness,  and  bade  my  hostess  adieu,  with  her  scolded 
servant  and  hopeful  son,  whose  every  look  and  action 
reminded  me  of  Solomon's  rod,  the  nicely  kept  Testa- 
ment, and  the  bar  of  whiskey,  and  I  said,  on  going  out, 

"  I  would  not  live  always,  I  ask  not  to  stay," 

if  I  must  stay  in  a  tabernacle  like  this.  The  rain 
poured,  and  passing  a  few  doors,  I  was  spoken 
to  by  a  daughter-in-law  of  my  hostess,  who  invi- 
ted me  to  stop  a  few  days  ;  this  was  an  unexpected 
kindness.  She  belonged  to  the  society  of  Christian 
Brethren,  and  seemed  to  understand  the  gospel  prin- 
ciple of  treating  strangers,  better  than  many  who  are 
sitting  under  the  teaching  of  learned  theologians.  *'  I 
have  staid,"  she  said  "  in  the  Protestant  church,  which 
had  the  '  form  without  the  power,'  till  I  could  stay  no 
longer."  She  visited  with  me  in  the  houses  of  those 
of  like  faith,  whom  I  found  very  spiritual  ;  but  I  fear 
in  danger  of  running  into  the  same  error  that  others 
in  America  of  their  belief  have  done,  viz.  that  of  being 
so  afraid  of  the  law,  as  having  no  law  at  all.  Father 
Mathew,  they  said,  had  been  a  great  curse  ;  because  all 
he  did  was  under  the  law ;  and  they  really  regretted 
he  had  ever  been  among  them  ;  though  some  families 
had  had  more  bread,  they  acknowledged.  And  I  was 
severely  rebuked  for  wishing  to  see  him  ;  and,  as  a 
Christian,  I  had  no  right  to  have  anything  to  do  with 
him. 

Had  I  never  seen  the  hydra-headed  monster,  bi- 
gotry, before,  I  should  have  put  myself  on  the  defen- 
sive ;  but  here,  reader,  the  case  is  hopeless.     With  but 


CHAP.  VIII.]  CO.  OP  TIPPERARY.  153 

one  eye,  one  ear,  and  a  darkened  understanding,  boasting 
heart,  and  half  a  dozen  tongues,  he  has  so  much  reli- 
gion, he  has  none  at  all,  or  nothing  that  is  tangible. 
He  stalks  through  the  earth  wielding  a  rod  of  iron,  and 
woe  to  the  victim  who  comes  in  his  way ;  boasting  of 
being  taught  of  God,  he  lacks  the  first  principles  of 
religion,  viz.,  charity  and  humility,  without  which 
all  is  lost.  But  all  such  people  have  a  certain  race 
to  run,  and  if  the  seeds  of  saving  grace  are  sown 
in  their  hearts,  this  grace  will  sooner  or  later  break  off 
the  fetters.  I  said  no  more  of  Father  Mathew,  but 
went  to  hear  him  two  days  in  succession. 

What  a  pity,  pity,  that  the  reasoning  faculties  of  the 
Irish  as  a  nation  have  been  left  so  uncultivated,  and 
that  instinct  and  impulse  have  so  powerful  an  ascen- 
dancy. But  above  all,  what  a  miserable  religion  is  it 
that  does  not  humble  but  exalt  the  possessor ! 

Thursday — Walked  away  from  the  town,  and  un- 
expectedly made  my  way  to  the  poor  house — everything 
in  order,  everything  in  keeping — a  healthy  spot,  and 
good  fires  enlivening  the  hearths  of  the  old  people, 
which  appeared  more  like  luxury  than  poverty.  But 
the  constant  complaint  of  all  in  these  houses,  when 
they  can  be  heard  by  strangers,  is  the  '^  thinness  of  the 
stirabout,  and  the  want  of  the  tay  and  tobacco."  An 
old  female  confined  to  her  bed  looked  entreatingly  upon 
me,  to  whom  I  said,  ^'  You  are  nearly  home,  ma'am." 
^'O!"  she  answered,  'M  have  offended  God,  and 
what  shall  I  do  .?"  She  appeared  in  great  agony  of 
feeling,  know  she  must  soon  die,  and  afraid  of  the 
judgment,  I  pointed  her  to  the  blood  that  cleanseth 
from  all  sin.  Instantly  a  woman  came  behind  me,  and 
rudely  called  out,  pulling  me  at  the  same  time,  "  Come 
out  of  this  place,"  hurrying  me  on.  As  soon  as  we 
were  out  of  the  room,  she  begged  a  few  pennies,  chang- 
ing her  disgusting  tone  to  one  of  softness  and  suppli- 
cation. "  Shame  !"  said  I,  "  that  you  should  rudely 
draw  me  away  from  that  pitiful  old  woman,  to  beg." 
Knowing  that  the  inmates  are  not  allowed  to  ask 
charity,  as  they  are  constantly  livins;  upon  it,  I  de- 
7* 


154  CO.  OF  TIPPERARY.  [chap.  viii. 

clined,  and  asked  her  how  she  should  dare  to  take  such 
liberties.  This  custom  of  begging  is  so  prevalent,  that 
I  can  find  neither  nook  nor  shade  where  to  be  safe, 
except  in  the  middle  of  a  sermon  ;  they  will  follow  you 
to  the  church  door,  and  be  on  the  spot  when  you  come 
out. 

Friday — I  went  to  see  a  ruined  antiquity,  two  miles 
from  the  town,  and  the  walk  to  it  was  more  like  Ely- 
sian  fields  than  that  of  commonplace  earth  and  water. 
Here  were  the  seats  of  the  wealthiest  landlord,  fitted 
up  in  the  most  elegant  style,  and  the  miserable  cabins 
of  the  poor  full  of  woe.  Here  was  one  of  the  most  ex- 
tensive distilleries  still  in  operation  in  all  Ireland,  and 
Father  Mathew  has  a  large  field  yet  to  occupy. 

Calling  in  at  the  house  of  an  Englishman,  who  was 
an  extensive  brewer,  I  found  him  in  his  parlor,  with  a 
well  dressed  sister  from  London,  and  was  introduced 
to  them  as  an  American  lady.  "I  never  saw  but  one 
American  lady,"  said  the  sister,  "  and  she  was  very 
wealthy ;  but  the  most  ignorant,  unlearned  creature 
that  I  ever  saw  that  was  well  dressed."  ''Alas  for  my 
ignorant  countrywoman!"  1  sighed,  "  and  will  you  tell 
me  what  part  of  America  was  her  residence  .^"  "  Ha- 
lifax," was  the  reply.  Her  brother  seemed  mortified, 
and  a  silence  ensued,  when  it  was  broken  by  my  say- 
ing, that  sorry  was  I  to  say,  that  all  the  British  colo- 
nies were  in  a  pitiful  state  as  far  as  education  was 
concerned,  and  that  whoever  visits  them  in  the  Cana- 
das,  will  find  that  but  few  comparatively  are  educated 
of  the  native  inhabitants.  She  was  silenced,  and  should 
have  blushed  at  her  own  ignorance  of  the  geography 
of  the  country;  for  she  actually  thought  Halifax  be- 
longed somewhere  in  the  United  States.  I  am  truly 
disgusted  at  so  much  national  pride  as  is  everywhere 
met  with  in  travelling,  and  when  I  feel  any  for  my 
own,  it  is  only  in  self-defence.  The  conceited  boasting 
of  those  who  have  never  read  anything  but  a  prayer- 
book,  and  never  travelled  beyond  the  smoke  of  their 
own  chimney,  is  truly  annoying. 

Saturday  evening  a  funeral  passed,  and  I  joined  the 


CHAP.  VIII.]  CO.  OF  TIPPERARY.  155 

processsion,  and  followed  it  into  the  cliapcl  yard.  The 
corpse  was  carried  around  the  chapel,  and  then  brought 
back  to  the  corner  where  the  grave  was  prepared.  A 
gilded  coffin,  with  a  lid  put  over  like  a  band-box,  was  a 
novelty  quite  unlike  the  snug  mahogany  one,  screwed 
closely  down,  with  a  plain  plate  upon  the  top,  which  I 
had  been  accustomed  to  see.  I  expected  and  even 
hoped  to  hear  the  Irish  howl  ;  for  when  the  corpse  was 
let  into  the  grave,  the  poor  old  widowed  mother,  who 
had  crept  a  mile  from  the  poor-house  on  her  staff,  to 
see  him  buried,  fell  down  upon  her  face,  and  gave  the 
most  piteous  cry.  x\nother  old  woman  rushed  towards 
her,  calling  out,  "  Stop,  ye  aregoin'  to  do  what  nobody 
does  now.  Get  up  and  stop  the  bawlin'."  She  was 
pulled  up,  and  by  force  dragged  away  to  a  seat,  and 
told  peremptorily  by  a  man  to  stop  her  crying.  "  Ye 
can't  bring  him  back,  and  what's  all  this  bawlin'  about 
what  ye  can't  do  .'" 

"  That  is  the  very  reason,  sir,"  I  said,  ''  why  she 
weeps  ;  because  she  cannot  bring  him  back  ;  let  her 
give  vent  a  few  moments  to  her  grief,  aud  she  will  be 
relieved." 

Turning  to  her,  I  asked,  "  Is  this  your  only  son  .-" 
*'  One  little  boy  I  have  with  me  in  the  poor-house, 
ma'am.  It  is  hard  for  mothers  to  see  their  children 
die." 

She  was  calm  in  a  moment,  and  sat  pale  and  silent 
till  all  was  over.  The  daughter,  of  about  eighteen, 
took  the  sheets  with  which  the  coffin  was  carried,  into 
her  chequered  apron,  and  a  spado  which  had  covered 
with  earth  the  coffin  of  her  brother,  and  after  all  kneel- 
ing down  upon  the  ground  to  pray  for  the  soul  of  the 
departed  a  few  moments,  they  went  silently  away. 

Poor  simple  unheeded  rustics  !  No  "  sable  hearse 
or  nodding  plume"  has  honored  your  procession;  no 
gilded  mourning  coach  has  brought  the  crippled  grey- 
hair'd  mother  to  see  this  son  of  her  love  put  in  his  nar- 
row house  ;  no  richly  attired  friends  stood  by  when  the 
tumbling  clods  were  rolling  upon  his  coffin,  to  support 
her,  and  shed  their  crocodile  tears  at  the  loss  of  so 


156  CO.  OF  TIPPERARY.  [chap.  viii. 

goodly  a  child.  No  !  she  had  the  fearful  sin  of  being 
poor  ;  this  alone  must  shut  her  out  from  sympathy, 
must  not  even  let  her  weep.  The  sister,  too,  was  im- 
plicated ;  this  blot  of  blots,  this  foul  disgrace  of  pover- 
ty was  found  on  her.  Tha  homely  apron  which  she 
toiPd  to  purchase  must  wrap  the  shroud,  and  her  coarse 
laborious  hands  must  lift  the  spade  which  covered  the 
bosom  of  her  brother. 

At  eight  o'clock  the  next  morning.  Father  Mathew 
gave  a  stirring  scriptural  discourse  on  the  importance 
of  temperance,  proving  from  scripture,  as  well  as  from 
facts,  the  sin  of  using  ardent  spirits.  The  concourse 
was  immense,  so  that  they  "  trode  one  upon  another." 
At  twelve  o'clock  he  gave  another  address.  His  sim- 
ple, unaffected  manner  carries  that  evidence  of  sincerity 
and  integrity  with  it,  that  no  one  can  doubt  but  he  who 
loves  to  doubt.  His  unabating  zeal  is  beyond  all 
praise  ;  yet  at  this  late  hour  do  I  hear  his  name  tra- 
duced by  his  countrymen,  who  are  ascribing  his  object 
to  a  political  one.  Yet  among  all  his  traducers  not  one 
can  be  found  who  is  an  abstainer,  whether  he  took  the 
pledge  from  him  or  from  some  other  one  ;  and  I  should 
not  hesitate  to  say  that  in  all  Ireland  he  has  no  enemies 
among  the  tetotalers  ;  few  among  the  drunkards  ;  but 
many,  many,  among  the  moderate  drinkers. 

Monday  morning  he  was  ao-ain  at  the  chapel,  with 
hundreds  of  children  urging  their  way,  who 

"  Pluck'd  his  gown  to  share  the  good  man's  smile." 

It  was  a  lovely  sight  :  angels  could  not  weep  at  this — 
Not  a  child  was  frowned  upon,  though  the  crowd  was 
pressing,  so  that  with  difficulty  he  made  his  way.  Some 
of  the  little  ones  he  took  in  his  arms  ;  on  all  heads  he 
put  his  hand,  within  his  reach.  I  ascended  the  gallery, 
and  enjoyed  an  undisturbed  view.  A  large  circle  was 
formed  ;  in  the  enclosure  of  this  circle  were  the  chil- 
dren, kneeling  down,  clasping  their  hands,  and  lisping 
the  pledge.  Those  who  could  not  speak  were  carried 
in  the  arms  of  their  mothers,  and  they,  kneeling, 
repeated    the    pledge    for    them.     Many  a  little  one, 


CHAP.  VIII.]  CO.  OF  TIPPERARY.  157 

when  rising  from  its  knees,  did  he  raise  in  his  arms, 
kiss  and  bless  it,  then  send  it  out  from  the  ring.  Three 
hundred  that  day  took  a  pledge  to  abstain  from  the  use 
of  tobacco  in  all  forms.  This  dirty  article  he  ridiculed, 
and  begged  of  mothers  to  abstain  from  the  shameful 
practice.  A.mong  all  the  motley  group,  not  one  child 
was  heard  to  cry  throughout  the  day,  and  they  might 
continually  be  seen  crawling  on  all  fours,  pushing  their 
heads  through  the  mass,  to  take  the  pledge,  or  make 
their  way  out  from  the  circle.  One  little  child  of  but 
two  years  and  three  mouths,  when  she  took  it,  pushed 
her  blue  bonnet  through  the  crowd,  sprung  to  her  feet, 
murmured  in  a  sweet  tone,  "  Fadder  Matty,"  running 
about  the  chapel,  nor  could  she  be  stopped.  She  was 
caught  up,  but  would  not  be  hushed,  and  when  her 
name  was  asked,  it  was  "  Fadder  Matty,"  till,  by  this 
continual  chatter,  she  so  attracted  the  attention  of  all, 
that  she  was  carried  from  the  chapel,  and  the  song  was 
heard  till  it  died  in  the  distance. 

A  few  moments  before  four,  the  assembly  broke  up, 
and  mothers  and  children  ran  after  the  good  man,  the 
mothers  crying,  "  The  baby,  plase,  wants  the  pledge." 
The  pledge  was  given  to  many  a  baby  in  the  chapel 
yard,  and  on  the  street,  till  the  coach,  which  was  about 
starting,  shut  the  kind-hearted  man  from  their  sight. 

1  succeeded  to  reach  him  through  the  crowd  a  letter 
of  introduction,  and  only  had  time  to  say,  "  I  hope  to 
see  you  in  Cork."  This  was  a  day  of  great  triumph  to 
Father  Mathew.  ^'  My  hope,  my  strong  hope,"  he 
said,  "  is  in  the  children  ;  they  never  break  the  pledge  ; 
and  if  the  rising  generation  can  be  saved,  the  great 
work  will  be  accomplished." 

I  had  heard  much  of  this  man  in  my  own  country, 
but  here  I  saw  him,  and  must  acknowledge  he  is  the 
only  person  of  whom  I  had  heard  much  praise,  who  ever 
met  the  expectation  given.  He  more  than  met  it  ;  he 
passed  it  by.  He  was  farther  removed  from  all  that 
could  render  him  suspected  than  I  had  supposed,  and  I 
was  convinced  that  ac(][uaintance  must  remove  all  hon- 
est distrust. 


158  CO.  OF  TIPPERARY.  [chap.  viii. 

Had  the  object  of  my  visit  to  Ireland  been  to  have 
rummaged  castles  and  abbeys,  old  graveyards  and 
bridges,  for  antiquities  to  spread  before  the  public,  the 
public  (to  say  the  least)  must  have  said,  "  We  have 
caught  nothing."  Many  and  most  of  these  things  I  did 
visit,  but  they  left  no  other  impression  than  to  convince 
me  that  a  powerful,  religious,  and  intelligent  people 
must  have  inhabited  this  island  ;  and  they  urged  me  on 
to  penetrate  into  bog  and  glen,  mountain  and  cave,  to 
see  the  remains  of  this  people,  to  ascertain  what 
vestiges  are  left  of  the  high-toned  greatness,  the  mag- 
nanimity of  soul,  the  sweet  breathing  of  poetry,  and 
the  overflowing  tenderness  of  heart,  which  must  once 
have  pervaded  this  isle.  I  must  not  anticipate  ;  but 
here  will  say,  that  if  you  will  follow  my  zig-zag  path 
through  bog  and  heathy  mountain,  I  will  show  you  in 
these  fastnesses,  and  among  these  rocks,  a  people  on 
whom  the  finger  of  God  has  left  an  impress  that  cannot 
be  misunderstood.  If  you  get  weary,  we  will  sit  down 
by  some  sparkling  rivulet,  and  lave  us  in  the  purest  and 
sweetest  water  that  ever  flowed,  but  the  water  of  life 
proceeding  from  the  throne  of  God.  If  you  get 
hungry,  some  mountain  Rebecca  shall  say,  "  come  in, 
ye  stranger,  and  take  a  morsel,  and  we  will  set  ye  on 
yer  way."  Though  not  a  torn  loaf  of  the  written  vol- 
ume of  the  word  of  God  could  be  found,  yet  there  em- 
phatically this  word  is  written,  believed  and  prac- 
tised. 

Before  leaving  Roscrea,  we  will  ascend  to  the  top  of 
the  castle,  and  sec  the  town.  This  ancient  building  is 
now  used  as  a  barrack.  Dr.  Downer,  who  politely 
showed  it  me,  was  well  acquainted  with  its  history, 
and  obs  rved,  "  you  see  what  remains  of  its  former 
greatness,  and  what  a  lesson  it  gives  of  the  frailty 
of  human  grandeur."  Cromwell  had  been  here  ;  and 
though  it  is  said  the  memory  of  the  wicked  shall  rot, 
yet  his  is  still  flourishing  in  the  hearts  of  all  Ire- 
land. 

At  night  had  full  proof  of  Irish  merriment,  illus- 
trated by  half  a  dozen  young  men  from  the   country, 


CHAP,  vm.]  CO.  OF  TIPPER ARY.  159 

wbo  had  come  into  town  to  assist  a  man  in  digging  his 
potatoes.  Finding  they  had  no  where  to  lie  down 
after  the  fatigue  of  the  day,  they  ate  their  potatoes, 
"  and  rose  up  to  play."  The  dancing  and  singing  were 
so  boisterous,  that  they  shook  the  cabin,  and  reached 
the  ears  of  most  of  the  neighborhood,  who  supposed 
they  must  be  intoxicated.  But  all  were  tetotalers, 
and  had  not  taken  a  drop  ;  yet  they  never  relaxed 
during  the  night,  and  the  morning  found  them  still  in 
the  same  heart,  though  they  had  worked  hard  the  pre- 
ceding day,  eating  nothing  but  potatoes,  nor  slept  any 
through  the  night.  An. Irishman,  to  whom  the  circum- 
stance was  related,  answered,  ''  The  Irishman's  merri- 
ment begins  at  his  christening,  and  ends  only  when  he 
has  been  well  waked."  It  is  even  so.  The  poor 
Connaughtman,  when  at  work  for  a  rich  landlord  for 
four-pence  a  day,  will  eat  his  potatoe,  sleep  in  a  barn, 
he  will  sing  and  dance  as  merrily  as  the  rich  hunter 
about  the  lakes  of  Killarney. 

A  little  incident  occurred  one  morning,  which  ego- 
tism and  boasting  would  forbid  noticing,  if  both  duty 
and  inclination  did  not  call  for  an  acknowledgment  of 
God's  never  ceasing  care  over  his  creatures,  especially 
to  me  in  a  land  of  strangers.  A  genteel  tidy  woman 
came  into  the  house  every  morning,  to  assist  for  an 
hour  or  two,  and  get  her  breakfast.  This  woman  was 
sitting  by  the  fire,  when  a  son  of  the  landlady  took  up 
a  pennyworth  of  bread  which  the  poor  woman  had 
just  bought,  with  a  penny  she  had  borrowed  from  his 
mother.  He  said,  "  Is  this  yours,  Peggy  .-^^  "  No 
matter,  Mickey,  you  are  quite  welcome  ;  take  it — take 
it."  This  was  all  she  had  for  a  breakfast  for  a  daugh- 
ter, who  had'  walked  thirteen  miles  the  evening  before 
from  a  place  of  service,  to  see  the  mother.  I  had  gone 
to  my  room,  and  she  entered.  Seeing  me,  as  she 
thought,  a  little  sober  ;  "  x\nd  ma'am,  I  fear  ye  are 
fretted.  Don't  fret ;  the  Lord  is  good.  It  was  never 
so  dark  with  me  as  at  this  minute.  My  little  slip  of  a 
gal  is  come,  and  I  have  no  breakfast  for  her,  and  it'a 
hard,  ma'am,  to  have  a  child  come  to  ye,  and  not  have 


160  CO.  OF  TIPPERARY.  [chap.  viii. 

a  bit  to  give  her  to  ate  ;  and  I  have  taken  oiF  my  pet- 
ticoat, and  pinned  a  piece  of  flannel  about  me,  and  the 
good  God  have  mercy  on  me,  I  don't  know  what  to  do," 
importuning  me  at  the  same  time  not  to  fret,  the  Lord 
would  certainly  take  care  of  me.  ^'  But  I  have  six- 
pence beside  to  pay  for  my  rent,  and  the  good  God 
send  it  to  me,  or  I  shall  lose  my  little  cabin  to-morrow." 
When  her  face  was  turned  about,  the  sixpence  was 
put  into  her  hand  ;  in  an  ecstacy  of  joy,  she  fell  upon 
her  knees  before  the  donor.  This  woman  had  been 
the  wife  of  an  officer,  and  had  seen  something  of  fash- 
ionable life,  but  had  not  lost  that  native  heart-feeling 
which  the  uneducated  Irish  so  eminently  possess.  In 
her  concern  for  me,  she  forgot  the  application  of  her 
exhortation  to  herself;  though  she  was  fretting,  she 
seemed  not  to  know  it.  These  Irish  are  a  great  ano- 
maly to  all  but  the  Almighty  :  reader,  remember  the 
sixpence. 

I  was  about  departing  for  Galway,  in  hopes  of  find- 
ing some  money  in  the  post-office,  which  was  to  be  sent 
there  from  Urlingford.  This  money  was  to  come  from 
America  to  Urlingford  ;  I  had  but  five  shillings  before 
the  sixpence  was  paid,  and  the  distance  to  Galway  was 
more  than  seventy  miles.  On  this  four  and  sixpence 
I  must  sleep,  and  cat,  and  ride,  unless  I  should  walk. 
Should  I  not  meet  my  money  at  Galway,  I  must  walk 
back,  making  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles  or  more. 

It  was  October  29th,  when  I  resolved  on  leaving 
Roscrea,  and  walk  to  the  Protestant  friend,  five  miles 
on  my  way,  where  the  boys  were  to  have  the  lumpers 
prepared  some  mornings  before.  The  road  was  very 
muddy  ;  the  good  woman  who  was  so  obliged  by  the 
sixpence  would  go  with  me  to  carry  my  basket.  Rain 
soon  began  to  pour,  and  we  returned.  Sitting  down, 
meditating  what  next  could  be  done,  John  Talbot,  a 
Quaker,  entered,  saying  he  had  engaged  a  passage  on 
a  car  of  a  friend,  who  would  carry  me  to  the  spot 
where  I  wished  to  call.  What  could  be  brighter  ?  the 
rain  ceased,  and  I  got  upon  the  car  with  the  Quaker 
and  his  lady,  and  (^uite  soon  enough  reached  the  Pro- 


CHAP.  VIII.]  CO.  OF  TIPPERARY.  161 

testant  family,  for  the  company  of  these  friends  was 
agreeable  and  instructive. 

It  was  now  nearly  three  o'clock,  and  making  my  way 
to  the  cabin,  through  a  muddy  lane,  I  met  sights  untold  ; 
but  I  will  tell  you  what  I  can.  There  were  two  pigs, 
two  dogs,  two  cats,  and  two  batches  of  chickens  just 
introduced  upon  the  theatre  of  action,  which  were  en- 
closed in  a  niche  in  the  wall,  and  a  huge  pile  of  pota- 
toes just  poured  upon  the  table  for  the  workmen  and 
children.  A  hole  in  the  mud  floor  for  the  pigs  and 
poultry  to  take  their  "  bit,"  wooden  stools  and  chairs 
to  sit  down  upon,  and  a  pot  not  inferior  in  size  to  any 
farmer's  in  Ireland.  This  was  my  friend's  kitchen,  and 
these  were  the  appurtenances,  and  this  was  the  nice 
family  whose  money  was  in  the  bank,  whose  children 
were  trained  by  a  superior  teacher,  and  whose  virtues 
wanted  no  finish  but  tctotalism.  I  thought  I  saw  a 
sly  look  from  the  Quaker,  and  a  meaning  reciprocation 
from  the  spouse,  when  I  was  extolling  the  farmer  on 
the  car. 

When  my  thoughts  were  a  little  collected,  I  said, 
"  Well,  my  boys,  the  lumpers,  1  see,  are  ready." 
^'  They  are  for  the  workmen  ;  father  and  mother  are 
gone  to  Birr,  and  won't  be  home  till  nine  o'clock.'' 
Birr  was  the  place  I  had  hoped  to  see  before  1  slept  ; 
but  it  was  now  three  o'clock,  the  road  quite  muddy, 
and  the  lumpers  were  not  for  me,  and  the  father  and 
mother  gone.  I  resolved  to  test  more  fully  the  kind- 
ness of  the  Quaker,  and  entered  his  gate.  "  Thee  had 
better  stop,  and  rest  thee  till  to-morrow  ;  and  then  see 
thy  friends."  It  was  most  thankfully  accepted.  It 
would  be  useless  to  say  that  neatness  and  comfort  abode 
here  ;  the  good  housewife  made  her  own  bread,  and 
baked  it  as  bread  should  be  baked.  They  were  Qua- 
kers, and  that  one  word,  in  every  nation,  comprises 
all  this.  A  supper  of  comfort,  with  fresh  apples  upon 
the  table — the  first  I  had  seen  on  a  table  in  Ireland — 
a  cheerful  fire,  and  clean  bed,  made  me  almost  forget 
that  a  wide  ocean  separated  me  from  the  privileges  of 
home.     But   another  day  was  in  prospect ;    this   day 


162  KING'S  COUNTY.  [chap.  ix. 

arrived,  and  taking  my  breakfast  at  seven,  I  hastened 
away,  about  nine,  again  to  the  thrifty  farmer's. 

The  night's  rest  had  made  no  improvement  in  the 
cabin  ;  the  keepers  of  it  had  returned,  but  so  refined 
had  they  become,  that  the  master,  who  was  standing 
bolt  upright,  as  if  to  guard  the  hole  of  the  floor  where 
the  pigs  breakfasted  (for  he  was  near  it),  told  me  as 
soon  as  I  said  "  Good  morning,''  that  the  "  mistress 
was  out ;"  and  so  she  was,  for  I  saw  her  slide  into  a 
little  room  back  of  the  outer  door,  as  I  entered.  A 
short  good  morning  ended  the  call.  These  things  are 
not  written  to  ridicule  what  could  not  be  avoided,  nor 
to  expose  faults  which  are  and  should  be  kept  hidden  ; 
but  they  are  written  because  they  might  be  avoided, 
and  should  be  censured  ;  they  are  nuisances  which  no 
family,  having  the  light  of  revelation  and  the  benefits 
of  decent  society,  should  present  to  the  world.  They 
are  a  libel  on  the  character  of  Him  who  is  purity  itself, 
and  who  abhors  all  that  is  filthy.  Poor  human  na- 
ture ! 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Birr— A  Miserable  Protestant  Lodging-house— A  Rich  Distiller's  Family  ruined 
by  Intemperance — A  Wealthy  Ecc  ^utric— Lord  Rosse's  Telescope,  and  Lord 
Rosse — A  Baptist  Minister— Courtesy  of  the  Children  of  the  Irish  Peasantry — 
Another  Unfortunate  Letter  of  Introduction — Walk  from  Ballinasloe  to  Loiigh- 
rea — Miserable  Condition  of  the  Poor — A  returned  Emigrant— Fellow  Travel- 
lers— An  Interesting  Trio — Reading  the  Bible — A  Scripture  Discussion — A. 
Coniiaught  Catholic's  Experience  of  Church-going — Market-day  in  Loughrea — 
A  Shebeea  House — A  Pig's  Honesty — Remorseless  Staring  —More  Bible  Reading 
— Scarcity  of  Female  Beauty  in  Galway — Staring  in  Galway  beyond  Descrip- 
tion— Ancient  Burial-ground — Visit  to  a  Presbyterian  Minister  who  had  just 
married  a  Rich  Wife— Laborers  standing  in  the  Market-place— Miserable 
Lodgings— Walk  to  Oranmore— The  name  of  "  American  Stranger"  a  Key  to 
the  People's  Hearts— A  Counamara  Girl. 

My  walk  of  five  miles  was  not  tedious ;   the  air  was 
wholesome,  the  lark  was  singing,  the  road  smooth,  and 


CHAP.  IX.]  KING'S   COUNTY.  163 

the  scenery  pleasant.  The  town  of  Birr  was  the  resi- 
dence of  Lord  Rosse  and  his  telescope,  and  here  I  had 
hoped  to  have  a  feast  of  some  other  worlds  of  light  but 
this,  on  which  I  had  so  long  figured  to  so  little  advan- 
tage. It  rained  as  I  entered  the  town,  and  turning  into 
a  neat  little  cottage,  found  a  kind  welcome  by  the  clean- 
ly master  and  mistress,  who  are  Roman  Catholics,  and 
was  invited  to  eat,  and  then  they  directed  me  to  a  Pro- 
testant lodging-house.  I  say  Protestant^  because  the 
Catholics  knowing  me  to  be  one,  generally  selected  this 
sort,  supposing  I  should  be  better  pleased.  They  told 
me  the  people  were  kind  and  respectable  ;  this  was 
true,  but  the  rooms  were  dark  and  without  floors,  and 
two  enormous  hogs  which  were  snoring  in  an  adjoining 
closet  were  called  out  to  take  their  supper  in  the  kitch- 
en, which  made  the  sum  total  a  sad  picture.*  I  was 
kindly  urged  to  take  supper,  and  sat  down  with  them, 
took  an  apple,  and  passed  a  solitary  evening.  Not  that 
I  was  sorry  for  my  undertaking,  but  the  lack  of  all  so- 
cial comfort,  where  comfort  should  be  expected.  When 
I  went  into  my  bed-roem  I  felt  like  bursting  into  tears ; 
everything  looked  so  forbidding,  and  so  unlike  clean- 
liness about  the  bed.  Clean  sheets  were  begged,  and 
clean  sheets  were  granted  ;  yet  it  was  a  doleful  night, 
and  in  the  morning,  after  taking  some  potatoes,  and  ask- 
ing for  my  bill,  four  pence  was  the  answer.  Cheap 
indeed  !     I  paid  her  more. 

The  morning  was  dark  ;  the  rain  poured  fast.  At 
six,  a  hearse  passed,  bearing  the  corpse  of  the  son  of  a 
distiller,  who  fell  from  his  horse,  and  was  killed,  when 
intoxicated.  The  keeper  of  the  lodgings  remarked, 
that  he  had  seen  the  father,  and  twelve  sons  grown 
to  manhood,  in  church  together.  Seven  of  these  sons 
have  died  by  intemperance.  Are  whiskey-making, 
whiskey-selling,  and  whiskey-drinking  attended  with  a 
blessing  .'' 

*  A  cabin-keeper  near  Roscrea,  who  kept  her  pigs  in  the  room, 
told  me,  "  An'  troth,  ma'am,  I'd  take  him  into  my  bed  wid  me, 
if  he'd  thrive  any  better."  Her  bed  was  curtained  and  her  cabin 
was  clean. 


164  KING'S  COUNTY.  [chap.  ix. 

I  set  off  in  the  heavy  rain  to  find  the  house  or  castle 
of  a  rich  man,  who  was  considered  a  great  eccentric. 
He  was  owner  of  three  domains,  but  had  divested  them 
of  all  their  frippery,  had  put  on  a  frize  coat  and 
brogues,  and  literally  condescended  to  men  of  low 
estate  in  dress  and  equippage.  He  had  taken  many 
orphans  into  his  house,  and  provided  them  food  and 
clothing.     When   I  reached  his   dwelling,  my  clothes 

were  profusely  drenched.     Mr.  S was  not  at 

home.  I  asked  the  housekeeper  if  I  might  step  in  till 
the  rain  should  abate  and  dry  my  clothes.  She  allowed 
me  to  do  so  ;  and  1  followed  her  through  a  long  gang- 
way of  desolated  halls,  to  a  kitchen,  and  found  a  com- 
pany about  to  dine  in  the  same  way  and  on  the  same 
materials  as  the  cabin  people  do.  The  rain  continued, 
and  an  invitation  to  stop  over  night  was  not  needed  a 
second  time.  A  fire  was  made  in  a  parlor,  where  no 
carpets  or  supernumeraries  met  the  eye.  Tea,  bread, 
and  butter  were  offered,  and  the  housekeeper  made 
everything  pleasant.  She  had  embraced  the  principles 
of  her  master,  who  had  taken  her,  when  but  two  years 
old,  begging  her  from  a  widowed  mother,  who  was  em- 
barking for  England.  He  had  been  a  father,  indeed, 
she  said,  and  the  care  of  the  house  was  entrusted  to 
her. 

When  I  was  comfortably  prepared  in  my  lodging- 
room,  with  a  fire  and  clean  bed,  and  contrasted  it  with 
the  preceding  night,  in  what  extremes  do  I  find  myself, 
from  cabin  to  castle,  tossed  like  a  "  rolling  thing  be- 
fore a  whirlwind,"  yet  never  destroyed.  1  slept  in 
peace,  and  thanked  God  that  in  Ireland  one  rich  godly 
man  could  be  found,  who  called  all  mankind  his  bre- 
thren. 

In  the  morning  I  took  my  breakfast,  was  kindly  in- 
vited to  come  when  j\lr.  S.  should  be  at  home,  and 
went  out,  and  called  at  the  lodge-house,  where  was  a 
godly-woman,  poor  in  this  world,  but  rich  in  faith.  A 
pleasant  hour  was  passed  with  her,  for  with  such,  les- 
sons are  to  be  learned  which  the  rich  cannot  teach. 
The  rain  had  deluged  the  country  the  preceding  night ; 


CHAP.  IX.]  KING'S  COUNTY.  165 

and  many  a  poor  cabin  was  swept  away  with  the  misera- 
ble furniture,  and  the  affrighted  inmates  had  fled,  with 
their  children  in  their  arms,  naked  as  they  were,  from 
their  beds  of  straw. 

The  lawn  containing  the  telescope  of  Lord  Rosse  was 
open,  and  passing  the  gate,  the  old  lady  who  presided 
in  the  lodge  asked  me  to  go  through  the  grounds,  which 
were  free  to  all.  Much  did  I  regret  that  clouds  obscur- 
ed the  sky  the  whole  time  that  1  was  in  Birr,  so  that 
not  one  gaze  could  1  have  through  that  magnificent  in- 
strument. The  pipe  is  fifty-two  feet  in  length,  and  six 
and  a  half  in  diameter.  The  earl  is  mentioned  as  a  man 
of  great  philanthropy,  and  much  beloved  by  the  gentry 
and  poor. 

Sabbath. — Heard  the  Baptist  minister  preach  to  an 
audience  of  five,  and  he  likewise  broke  bread  to  three. 
He  observed,  when  he  went  out,  that  he  felt  it  his  duty 
to  keep  the  light  aburning,  the  more  so,  as  there  were 
but  a  few  tapers  kindled  in  the  island.  In  the  inter- 
mission, heard  a  sermon  in  the  neat  Methodist  chapel, 
and  that  day  and  evening  heard  four  good  sermons. 
At  the  house  of  Mr.  VV.  heard  a  Roman  Catholic,  who 
had  been  converted  from  Popery,  relate  his  exercises  of 
mind.  A  few  others  had  renounced  the  doctrines,  and 
united  with  Protestant  churches.  The  priest  at  whose 
chapel  he  attended  had  left  also,  and  become  a  Pres- 
byterian preacher.  It  was  remarked  by  .jj|J*resbyterian 
clergyman,  that  when  any  become  converts  from  that 
church,  they  are  the  most  spiritual  Christians  of  all 
others,  and  we  must  take  great  strides  to  keep  up  with 
them. 

November  4th. — Early  on  foot.  I  commenced  a  walk 
to  Ballinasloe.  The  sun  rose  most  beautifully;  such 
a  morning  my  eyes  had  not  greeted  for  months ;  no- 
thing was  wanting  to  make  sky,  cloud,  air,  and  earth 
most  charming,  but  the  curse  of  poverty  removed  from 
this  beautiful  island,  or  the  curse  of  oppression,  rather. 
The  poor  laborers  were  going  to  their  work,  smoking  or 
singing,  their  tattered  garments  but  an  apology  for 
clothing.     As  I  passed  the  wretched  cabins,  now  and 


166  CO.  OF  GALWAY.  [chap.  ix. 

then  the  happy  voice  of  some  child  singing  a  merry  song 
greeted  my  ear,  and  on  the  muddy  path  before  me  heard 
a  little  girl  of  eight  years  old,  who  was  seated  on  a  car, 
driving  an  ass,  humming  a  monotonous  tune  ;  and  going 
to  her  said,  '^  Good  morning,  little  girl."  "  Good 
morrow  kindly."  "Will  you  let  me  put  my  basket  on 
your  car?"     "  I  will,  ma'am." 

The  manner  which  the  children  of  the  peasantry  an- 
swer any  question  is  quite  pleasant.  They  never  say 
"yes,"  or  "no;"  but  "  I  have  not,  ma'am,"  "  I  will, 
ma'am,''  "I  do,  ma'am,"  or  "  do  not,  ma'am,"  &c. 

"Where  have  you  been,  little  girl.^"  I  inquired. 
"To  carry  my  father  to  town,  ma'am." 

It  was  early  ;  she  had  been  more  than  a  mile,  and 
was  returning,  singing,  to  her  breakfast  of  potatoes 
(which  she  said  she  had  not  yet  taken),  clothed  in 
miserable  habiliments,  and  as  happy  as  the  child  of  a 
king.  Getting  a  very  pretty  "  Thank  ye,  ma'am,"  for 
an  apple,  I  gave  my  interesting  companion  good  morn- 
ing, who  said,  "  I  must  turn  up  the  lane,  ma'am."  I 
looked  after  this  self-possessed  child,  bare-headed,  bare- 
footed, seated  on  a  car,  guiding  an  ass,  at  that  early 
hour,  going  out  without  breakfast,  and  surely  she  lack- 
ed nothing  but  to  be  the  daughter  of  Lord  Rosse  to 
enable  her  to  measure  the  distance  of  the  planets  at  the 
age  of  sixteen.  But  hush  !  "  she  must  be  kept  in  her 
rank." 

I  met  many  interesting  characters  through  the  morn- 
ing ;  and  whether  laborer  or  beggar,  most  of  them  were 
smoking,  and  none  of  them  in  a  fretful  mood.  I  talked 
a  little  with  all,  and  scarcely  spoke  to  one  who  did  not 
drop  something  in  my  ear  worth  recalling.  It  is  noticea- 
ble in  all  the  peasantry  of  Ireland,  that  whether  the  idea 
be  new  or  old  which  they  advance,  it  will  be  given  in 
«uch  a  novel  dress,  and  in  so  unexpected  a  manner,  that 
something  new,  and  often  something  beautiful,  will  be 
suggested  to  the  mind. 

At  the  foot  of  a  hill,  two  miles  from  the  town,  I  sat 
down  upon  a  stone,  opposite  a  company  of  men  and  one 
woman,  digging  potatoes.     "  She  seems  to  be  a  lady," 


CHAP.  ix.J  CO.  OF  GAL  WAY.  167 

said  one,  peeping  through  the  hedge  to  see  me.  The 
woman  left  her  spade,  and  did  the  same.  I  was  about 
to  enter  into  conversation,  when  a  young  man  with  his 
wife  going  on  a  car  to  the  town,  invited  me  to  get  up 
and  ride.  A  long  hill  was  before  me,  and  the  ride  was 
acceptable.  I  resolved  to  avail  myself  of  every  invita- 
tion to  ride  on  any  vehicle,  however  humble  ;  for  two 
reasons — to  rest  me,  and  to  learn  more  of  the  people 
than  I  could  by  walking  alone.  To  be  a  peasant  my- 
self, was  the  only  way  of  getting  at  facts  which  I  was 
seeking. 

Now  for  the  reception.  Dr.  White,  in  his  good  na- 
ture, had  urged  a  letter  upon  me  to  a  family  whom  he 
had  befriended,  and  of  whom  he  had  the  highest  regard. 
He  had  not  seen  them  for  some  years  ;  "  and  will  you," 
he  said,  "do  me  the  favor  to  give  them  this  letter 
yourself.^"  I  could  not  refuse  him,  though,  when  he 
added,  they  had  become  quite  prosperous,  and  were 
very  much  afflicted  when  he  first  became  acquainted 
with  them,  I  well  knew  what  to  expect,  if  they  were  like 
most  upstarts  in  life.  But  go  I  must,  and  go  I  did,  and 
here  is  the  result. 

My  first  depot  was  into  a  whiskey  room,  and  a  chill 
came  over  me.  By  this  they  had  grown  rich.  A  bro- 
ther of  the  family  had  spent  some  years  in  America,  and 
was  much  attached  to  it,  but  unfortunately  this  brother 
was  absent.  Another  was  behind  the  counter,  busy  in 
measuring  whiskey,  and  in  every  nation  where  property 
is  acquired  by  this  degrading  practice,  the  finer  sensibi- 
lities of  the  heart  are  all  blasted,  and  no  age  or  station 
commands  either  attention  or  respect,  that  does  not  ad- 
minister to  the  interests  of  the  traffic  dealer.  Long  I 
waited  before  the  customers  were  served.  Then  seeing 
a  little  pause,  I  presented  the  letter.  It  was  read,  but 
"  Who  is  this  Doctor  White  ?  Did  he  ever  live  in 
Thurles  ?  I  think  I  have  heard  of  him,  but  don't  know 
him.  My  brother,  who  has  been  to  America,  would  be 
happy  indeed  to  see  you,  but  he  is  gone  to  Dublin  ;  he 
would  render  you  any  service.  My  sister  too  is  gone, 
aiid  the  family  are  quite  deserted  " 


168  CO.  OF  GAL  WAY.  [chap.  ix. 

I  then  asked  the  privilege  of  writing  a  note  to  the 
Doctor,  which  was  readily  granted ;  while  I  was  doing 
so,  in  an  adjoining  room,  a  young  woman  entered,  and 
passed  through  without  speaking.  The  brother  then 
came  in,  and  begged  me  to  step  into  the  next  door  and 
write  as  the  room  I  was  then  in  was  not  his.  When  I 
entered'the  door,  the  young  woman  who  had  previously 
passed  through,  was  standing  in  the  room,  with  the  let- 
ter from  Doctor  W.  in  her  hand,  whom  the  young  man 
introduced  as  his  sister.  I  saw  the  manoeuvering  ;  but 
took  all  in  sober  earnest.  The  sister  was  so  delighted 
to  do  something  for  Doctor  W.  ;  he  had  served  them 
years  ago,  and  she  should  never  forget  his  goodness. 
"  Do  walk  up  stairs,  and  tell  us  what  we  can  do  for 
you  ?  you  must  have  some  dinner,  and  I  will  give  you 
some  chop  till  dinner  is  ready."  Finding  I  did  not 
take  flesh,  she  was  flung  into  great  distress,  "  what 
should  she  do  to  make  me  comfortable  .^"  Some  cheese 
and  milk  were  brought,  and  she  talked  religiously  on 
self-denial,  was  much  given  to  despondency,  loved  re- 
tirement, suddenly  begged  pardon,  but  she  had  an  en- 
gagement, and  would  leave  me  unmolested  to  finish  my 
lunch  and  my  letter. 

The  brother  soon  entered,  asking  for  his  sister  ;  but 
she  would  soon  be  in,  and  he  regretted  much  that  he 
was  so  busy,  that  he  could  not  go  about  the  town  with 
me.  The  blarney  was  under  full  sail,  and  who  does 
not  like  blarney  ?  So  I  finished  my  letter,  walked  into 
and  through  the  pretty  town,  visited  the  lunatic  asylum, 
a  noble  building,  with  many  hundreds  of  lunatics.  I 
returned  to  the  house  at  sunset ;  all  was  solitude,  as  if 
the  finger  of  death  were  in  the  dwelling.  The  servant 
who  opened  the  door  spoke  not,  and  I  went  up  stairs 
to  get  my  basket  and  parasol.  The  parlor  door  was 
locked.  I  sat  down  on  a  little  couch  near  by,  when 
the  servant  came  softly,  well  schooled  in  duplicity,  and 
in  a  soft  tone  said,  "  My  mistress  told  me  to  say  we 
have  no  beds  for  you  ;  your  basket  is  in  the  hall  ;  she 
has  gone  out  to  spend  the  night."  "  Where  is  my  pa- 
rasol .^"     "  O  you  can't  have  that ;    it  is  locked  in  the 


CHAP.  ix.J  CO.  OF  GALWAY.  165} 

4)arlor.  You  can  call  and  get  it  to-morrow."  I  did 
call  on  the  morrow,  and  left  a  note  for  the  sentimental 
young  lady,  which  I  hoped  might  do  her  good  in  her 
solitude. 

In  a  neat  little  cottage  I  found  the  cleanest  accom- 
modations. They  were  a  snug  little  room  on  the  first 
floor,  with  a  nicely  curtained  bed,  a  turf  fire,  two  can- 
dles, and  some  crisped  potatoes,  and  all  for  the  bill  of 
four  pence.  I  was  certainly  the  gainer,  even  had  I 
wished  to  have  stopped  with  the  doctor's  friend  ;  and 
had  I  been  kindly  received,  I  should  not  have  enjoyed 
such  secluded  comforts  as  were  mine  in  that  silent  re- 
treat. When  I  was  in  quiet  possession  of  all  these 
enjoyments,  I  sent  up  a  prayer  that  I  might  be  cm-ed, 
efi"ectually  cured,  of  putting  myself  in  the  power  of  the 
proud,  the  ignorant,  yes,  the  ungodly  world,  to  abuse 
me — to  trifle  with  every  feeling  of  my  heart,  which  nat- 
urally inclines  me  to  be  credulous. 

Why  am  I  not  content  with  the  resources  God  has 
supplied  me,  without  running  to  silly  worms  for  aid 
which  I  can  do  without  ?  Why  not  turn  to  the  God  that 
is  within  me,  and  there  seek  that  honor  which  comes 
from  above  ?  Give  me  truth,  justice,  and  integrity  for 
my  letters  of  introduction,  and  I  will  ask  no  more.* 
Two  young  men  in  the  house  divided  the  thirty  miles  to 
Galway  into  three  parts,  giving  me  stopping  places  each 
day,  to  see  the  country ;  and  early  in  the  morning,  in  a 
pleasant  if  not  happy  mood,  I  was  on  my  way,  refreshed 
with  rest,  determined  that  no  treatment  in  Ireland 
should  make  me  unhappy. 

Walking  a  few  miles,  it  began  to  rain.  Turning  to 
a  miserable  cabin  without  a  window,  or  a  chimney,  the 
smoke  issuing  from  the  door,  I  found  a  widow  pre- 
paring a  basket  of  potatoes  for  her  ducks.  "  May  be 
ye'd  take  a  potato,  ma'am,"  taking  a  couple  and  peel- 
ing  them  with   her  fingers.      I  took  them,   and  they 

*  If  the  professed  Christian,  with  the  Bible  in  his  hand,  do  not 
know  his  duty  towards  the  stranger,  then  let  him  "  tie  a  string" 
around  that  Bible,  and  go  into  some  mountain  cabm  where  the  Bi- 
ble has  never  been,  and  there  take  a  lesson. 
8 


170  CO.  OF  GALWAY.  [chap.  ix. 

made  me  a  comfortable  repast.  At  two  o'clock  I  enter- 
ed a  second  cabin  ;  a  poor  widow  woman  was  carding 
wool,  sitting  literally  in  the  mud.  These  huts  are  al- 
ways muddy,  where  the  thatch  is  poor  and  the  rain  can 
penetrate.  Five  children  were  about  her,  waiting  for 
the  potatoes  which  had  not  yet  been  put  over.  They 
had  come  in  from  their  work  hungry,  and  the  sum  total 
was  a  pitiful  sight.  Asking  her  if  she  tilled  any  land, 
she  answered,  "  I  pay  rent  for  five  acres,  but  the  chil- 
dren cannot  till  it.  I  am  waitin'  till  they  are  rair'd, 
hoping  I  can  then  raise  somethin',  and  if  I  give  it  up,  I 
cannot  get  it  again.''  Poor  as  she  was,  she  had  paid  a 
pound  an  acre  on  this  land,  by  going  out  with  her  chil- 
dren and  working  in  the  fields,  at  three  pence  and  six 
pence  a  day.*  The  reader  must  know,  that  in  many 
parts  of  the  south  and  west,  when  it  is  neither  seed 
time  or  harvest,  many  a  man  works  for  six  pence, 
four  pence,  and  often  in  the  winter  for  three  pence 
a  day. 

She  begged  me  to  wait  for  some  potatoes,  but  I  could 
not.  Passing  on,  I  found  a  man  and  his  wife  win- 
nowing oats  by  the  way  side,  and  sitting  down  upon 
a  pile  of  straw,  told  them  my  pedigree  ;  and  so  in- 
terested did  they  become,  that  1  was  urged  to  go  in 
and  take  some  potatoes,  which  they  said  were  already 
boiled.  I  went  in,  and  the  sight  of  the  hovel  was 
frightful  even  to  me.  How  can  man,  who  is  made  in 
the  image  of  God,  sit  here,  eat  here,  and  sleep  here .'' 
was  my  honest  and  silent  inquiry.  A  sickly  dirty 
child  of  two  years  old,  that  could  neither  stand  nor 
talk,  was  sitting  upon  a  dirty  pillow,  and  two  or  three 
more  in  rags  about  the  hearth.  From  this  abode  a 
daughter  of  eighteen  was  preparing  to  go  to  America, 
to  get  her  pound  and  a  half  a  month  for  service.  In 
this  cabin  she  had  been  born,  in  this  had  she  acquired 

*  Does  this  look  like  idleness  ?  Many  a  poor  widow  have  I 
seen,  with  some  little  son  or  daughter,  spreading  her  manure  by 
moonlight,  over  her  scanty  patch  of  ground  ;  or  before  the  rising  of 
the  sun,  going  out  with  her  whisp  about  her  forehead,  and  basket  to 
her  back,  to  gather  her  turf  or  potatoes. 


CHAP.  IX.]  CO.  OF  GALWAY.  171 

all  the  knowledge  of  domestic  duties  slie  possessed,  and 
from  this  cabin  she  was  about  to  be  transported  into 
that  depot  for  all  and  for  everything  that  by  "  hook  or 
by  crook"  can  float  across  the  waters. 

A  letter  of  introduction,  reader,  was  wanted  by  the 
mother,  and  of  recommendation  too  !  What  could  I 
do  ?  I  had  eaten  of  their  potatoes,  and  money  they 
would  not  take  ;  "  but  if  ye'd  spake  a  good  word  for 
my  daughter,  it's  all  I  would  want,  and  she's  as  strong 
a  gal  as  ye'd  meet  in  a  day's  walk."  The  good  sense 
of  the  mother  at  last  hit  upon  a  proper  expedient ;  she 
saw  her  mistake,  and  only  requested  that  I  should 
write  my  name  for  the  girl,  and  when  she  went  to  New 
York,  she  would  take  it  and  show  it  to  me,  should  she 
find  me  there.  I  wrote  a  few  lines,  much  to  their 
gratification,  which  the  mother  and  daughter  read  with 
ease.  This  little  attention  they  greatly  appreciated, 
and  we  parted  mutually  honored  by  exchange  of 
favors. 

I  had  left  the  cabin  when  the  mother  called  after 

me,  '^  Will  ye  call,  lady,  upon  Mrs.  L .     She  lives 

on  the  hill ;  she  is  rich,  and  could  do  anything  for  ye 
that  ye  might  be  wantin'.  She's  a  good  and  a  kind 
lady  to  the  poor."  Assuring  her  I  had  not  come  to 
visit  the  rich,  and  that  I  had  enjoyed  a  good  dinner 
in  her  cabin,  she  then  pointed  me  to  a  family  who  had 
spent  some  years  in  America,  and  returned  with  a 
handsome  fortune.  I  went  to  the  house  ;  the  mistress 
was  gone,  but  going  to  the  barn,  I  found  the  man  busied 
at  work,  who  appeared  quite  Americanised.  He  told 
me  much  of  New  York,  for  he  had  left  it  since  I  had. 
He  was  whole  and  tidy,  and  made  quite  a  contrast  to 
the  tattered  one  working  with  him.  "  You  must  go  in, 
and  take  some  dinner  w^ith  us,"  he  said.  "  I  have  had 
some  potatoes,  sir,  and  do  not  need  any." 

^'  Potatoes  !"  he  answered,  disdainfully.  ^^  You  can't 
eat  potatoes.  I  know  what  you  have  in  America,  and 
how  you  all  live."  For  a  half  hour  I  felt  transported 
to  New  York,  forgetting  that  I  had  ten  miles  to  walk, 
with  a  basket  on  my  arm,  in  Ireland,  alone.     This  man 


172  CO.  OF  GALWAY.  [chap.  ix. 

ten  years  before  went  to  New  York,  with  his  newly 
married  wife,  not  worth  a  pound  ;  both  went  out  to 
serTice,  and  both  laid  by  money,  and  have  now  re- 
turned with  a  pretty  fortune,  "  to  lay  their  bones,"  as 
he  said,  "  on  the  old  soil." 

*'  This  goin'  to  America,"  said  the  laboring  man, 
"  makes  the  Irish,  when  they  come  home,  quite  altered 
entirely." 

1  felt  like  leaving  home  when  I  left  the  yard,  but  in  a 
few  minutes  walk  a  new  companion  accosted  me.  A 
traveller  with  a  stick  and  bundle  in  his  hand  saluted  me 
with,  "  A  fine  day,  ma'am,  for  walkin',  beggin'  your 
pardon  ;  and  how  far  may  ye  be  travellin'  .^"  "  To  the 
next  town,  sir."  "  And  that's  the  way  I'm  a  goin' ; 
and  as  ye  seem  to  be  a  stranger  (English,  I  'spose),  if 
I  can  sarve  ye  any  way,  shall  I  take  yer  basket  ?  Ye 
seem  to  be  light  on  the  fut,  but  the  way  is  long  before 
ye."     "  It  may  trouble  you,  sir,  as  you  have  a  bundle." 

"  Not  at  all  at  all,  ma'am.  I  wish  'twas  twice  as 
heavy.  I  always  love  to  mind  strangers,  and  ye'll  see 
all  the  Irish  so  entirely.  I'm  a  gardener,  and  goin'  to 
Galway  to  be  a  steward,  and  do  ye  go  to  Galway, 
ma'am  ?  I'll  carry  your  basket  entirely,  ma'am,  and 
get  ye  a  good  lodgin'  place,  sich  a  nice  body  as  ye 
seem  to  be  must  feel  quare  among  strangers  ;  but  ye've 
nothin'  to  fear  in  Ireland.  Ye  may  travel  all  night, 
and  nobody  '11  touch  ye,  ma'am."  1  did  not  believe  it 
then,  as  I  do  now,  for  1  had  not  travelled  by  night  alone, 
as  I  have  since. 

His  volubility  never  ceased,  till  a  beggar  woman, 
with  an  enormous  sack  of  potatoes  under  a  ragged  cloak, 
joined  us,  and  we  formed  a  trio  of  no  common  interest. 
She  was  a  woman  of  more  than  sixty,  yet  the  bloom 
had  not  left  her  cheeks,  and  when  I  said,  "  You  look 
young  and  strong ;"  '*  I  am  aged,  ma'am,  and  my 
breath  is  getting  cowld,''  was  the  answer.  Pity,  1 
thought,  that  such  a  breath  as  yours  had  not  been 
drawn  in  some  more  fortunate  isle,  where 

"  Beauty's  gems  and  woman's  worth  are  better  known." 


CHAP.  IX.]  CO.  OF  GALWAY.  173 

Sli»would  and  did  keep  our  company,  though  twice  she 
stopped  to  rest.  A  well  dressed  woman  joined  us,  with 
her  shoes  and  stockings  in  her  hand  ;  her  feet,  like 
mine,  were  crippled,  and  we  entered  the  large  town  of 
Loughrea  as  night  was  falling.  Here  the  beggar  and 
tidy  woman  left  us,  and  through  the  narrow  muddy 
streets  we  wended  our  way,  to  the  extremity  of  the 
town,  which  is  a  mile  and  a-half  in  extent,  if  my  guide 
and  weary  feet  may  be  believed. 

My  never-tiring  companion  conducted  me  "into  an 
apartment,  which  looked  more  like  the  end  of  all  human 
hopes  than  an  abode  for  the  living  and  breathing  ;  and 
had  I  been  in  any  other  country  but  Ireland,  I  should 
have  shrunk  back,  fearing  I  had  entered  a  den  of  rob- 
bers. The  grandmother,  man  and  wife,  a  joyous  host 
of  ruddy,  truly  dirty  urchins,  with  pigs,  and  stools, 
filled  the  muddy  cabin  almost  to  suffocation. 

"  And  can  ye  give  this  lady  here  a  clane  bed,  and  it's 
she  that  can  tell  ye  she's  from  New  York,  and  a  stran- 
ger ;  and  I  wouldn't  leave  her  in  any  dirty  hovel  we'd 
chance  to  find." 

The  potatoes  were  now  emptied  from  the  pot ;  I 
asked  for  one,  always  finding  this  was  the  best  and 
surest  avenue  to  their  hearts.  One  was  immediately 
undressed,  and  put  upon  the  coals.  The  old  grand- 
mother said,  "  Our  beds  are  all  in  one  room,  and  may- 
be the  lady,  bein'  a  stranger,  she  wouldn't  like  to  sleep 
with  so  many  ;  and  while  she's  aitin'  the  pratee,  I'll  go 
and  seek  a  lodgin'." 

This  was  kind,  and  quite  in  keeping  with  all  my  feel- 
ings. *'  And  be  sure,"  called  out  my  companion,  "  you 
get  the  clane  room  and  bed." 

She  returned  with  good  tidings,  and  I  was  introduced 
to  my  new  lodgings,  a  little  different  from  the  one  I  had 
left,  but  not  in  the  best  keeping ;  but  I  was  in  Con- 
naught,  and  Connaughtmen  were  there.  In  the  evening 
I  observed  the  mistress  in  a  separate  apartment  read- 
ing, and  asked  what  she  had  that  seemed  so  to  interest 
her.  "  A  good  book,"  was  the  answer.  Knowing  they 
were  Roman  Catholics,  I  did  not  think  it  was  a  Bible  ; 


174  CO.  OF  GALWAY.  [chap.  ix. 

and  when  she  put  it  into  mj  hand,  saying,  ^'  Have  jpou 
read  this?"  pointing  to  the  miracle  of  the  loaves  and 
fishes,  I  was  happily  disappointed.  "  Will  you  read 
it.^"  she  asked.  I  did  so,  and  much  more  besides, 
while  the  men  who  were  sitting  by  seemed  deeply  inte- 
rested ;  and  one  poor  Connaughtman,  on  whom  nature 
had  not  lavished  all  her  gifts,  and  education  had  not 
given  one  specimen  of  her  handywork,  was  in  gaping 
astonishment,  and  wondered  why  he  had  not  heard  the 
like  afore.  "  By  dad,"  said  he  to  the  landlord,  "  and 
why  didn't  we  never  hear  the  like  from  the  praist.?" 
The  landlord  being  one  step  in  advance  in  intelligence, 
and  a  little  piqued  for  the  reputation  of  the  priest, 
silenced  him  by  saying,  ^'  But  sure  we  have,  and  a 
great  dale  more.''  Some  five  or  six  chapters  had  been 
read,  when  the  Connaughtman  suddenly  inquired,  "And 
do  ye  go  to  church,  ma'am  ?  I  was  never  in  one  but 
once,"  he  continued,  "  and  the  divil  take  me  if  I  ever 
get  cotcht  there  again.  Oh,  musha,  had  ye  been  lookin' 
at  me  there."     "  What  was  the  trouble,  sir  .?" 

''  The  life  was  scar'd  out  o'  me,  ma'am,  and  the  heart 
lept  up  to  the  mouth."  "  And  tell  us  what  so  frighted 
you  .^" 

"  Why,  ma'am,  I  had  heard  of  the  old  English  church 
in  Galway,  that  it  had  images  and  sich  like,  to  be  seen, 
and  I  was  goin'  by  to  mass,  and  see  the  door  open,  and 
thought  it  might  be  no  harum  to  peep  in  a  little.  A 
soldier  was  at  the  door,  with  a  soord,  and  a  divil  of  a 
leg  had  he  under  him  but  critches,  and  when  I  had 
but  just  got  behind  a  post,  peepin'  at  a  picture  in  a 
dark  corner,  a  man  in  black  bobb'd  up  before  me,  his  tail 
scrapin'  the  ground  behind  him,  musha  me !  I  can't  tell 
how  long.  I  thought  it  was  sartinly  the  Old  Nick, 
and  I  run  here,  and  I  run  there,  but  for  the  life  o'  me 
I  darrint  run  back,  for  the  soldier  with  the  soord  was 
at  the  door,  and  he  would  strike  me,  and  I  could  hear 
the  black  man  draofffin'  his  long  tail  after  him.  I  sees 
the  back  door  open,  and  made  out  into  the  church- 
yard, for  d'  ye  see,  I'd  ruther  be  with  the  dead  than 
with  the  livin',  and  I  skulked  among  the  stones  till  I 


CHAP.  IX.]  CO.  OF  GALWAY.  175 

found  a  place  to  dodge  out,  and  right  glad  was  I  to  get 
off  with  the  life  in  me,  and  by  dad,  ye  don't  find  me  in 
a  church  again." 

This  siniple-minded  man  told  this  story  in  all  since- 
rity, nor  could  he  be  persuaded  but  that  the  sexton,  with 
his  black  gown,  was  the  Old  Nick  sent  to  frighten  him 
for  entering  the  church. 

November  7th. — A  market  day  in  Connaught,  and  a 
great  curiosity  indeed  to  a  stranger  ;  because  not  only 
are  all  sorts  of  men,  women,  and  children  congregated 
of  the  lower  caste,  but  there  all  sorts  of  people  bring  all 
sorts  of  creatures  and  things  with  them,  in  all  sorts  of 
conveyances. 

I  had  an  opportunity  of  seeing  this  peculiar  class 
of  people  in  a  true  light  as  they  are  at  home,  for 
where  buying  and  selling  are  concerned,  you  see  the 
man  in  his  real  character.  "  It  is  nought,  it  is  nought, 
says  the  buyer,"  while  the  seller  protests  it's  the  finest 
and  choicest  in  the  kingdom  ;  and  report  has  said  that 
a  Connaughtman  loves  money.  This  being  a  public 
house  where  I  was  lodging,  it  was  common  plunder 
for  all.  Sack  and  bags,  geese,  turkeys,  pigs, 
asses,  horses,  and  cows,  were  all  brought  in,  and 
lodged  in  the  kitchen,  or  carried  into  the  yard, 
while  the  owner  went  out  to  make  fresh  purchases. 
The  landlord  was  a  tetotaler,  but  the  good  woman, 
more  bent  on  gain,  was  selling  her  whiskey  without  a 
license,  and  many  a  glass  on  that  rainy  market  day  not 
only  replenished  both  the  tea-canister  and  snuff-box  of 
the  seller,  but  gave  a  new  and  a  happy  zest  to  the  wits  of 
the  buyer.  One  woman  had  purchased  a  pig,  and  fear- 
ing, as  she  expressed  it,  the  pig  was  not  honest,  she 
was  unwilling  to  pay  her  money  till  she  had  kept  it  a 
week,  to  prove  its  soundness.  The  man  wanted  his 
money,  and  the  woman  would  not  give  it,  unless  some 
one  would  come  forward,  and  testify  to  the  honesty  of 
the  pig.  She  appealed  to  the  man  of  the  house ;  he 
was  incorrigible.  She  insisted,  she  urged,  that  he 
should  be  bail.  "That  I  won't  do,  ma'am,  I'll  not  be 
bail  for  the  honesty  of  the  pig." 


176  CO.  OF  GALWAY.  [chap.  ix. 

"Well,  then,  the  man  should  let  me  have  it  upon 
trial,  and  I'm  as  honest  a  woman  as  there  is  in  all  Gal- 
way,  and  that  I  can  show  any  day."  The  clamor  grew 
louder ;  the  man  was  forced  to  beg  pardon  for  some 
rude  words  he  had  used,  and  the  woman,  after  telling 
him  his  pardon  was  granted,  left  seven  shillings  till  the 
honesty  of  the  pig  should  be  proved,  and  took  her  pig, 
and  departed.  It  was  said  that  this  was  all  intrigue  on 
her  part,  to  have  the  use  of  her  money  as  long  as  she 
could. 

Though  not  a  simpleton  did  I  see  among  the  throng, 
yet  there  was  the  least  semblance  of  refinement  in  look 
or  manner  that  I  had  ever  seen  in  any  place  whatever. 
Not  one  did  I  see  that  day  which  could  tempt  a  desire 
for  further  acquaintance.  But  the  ultimatum  of  all, 
the  '^  head  and  front  of  the  offending"  was  the  staring. 
Their  incoherent  gibbering  never  stopped,  except  when 
they  suspended  all  to  stare  at  me.  1  can  bear  a  com- 
mon gaze  with  common  patience,  and  am  ready  to 
acknowledge  that  it  is  natural,  and  that  it  is  proper  to 
desire  to  look  at  a  foreigner  when  he  passes,  and  to 
gratify  that  desire  should  not  be  censured.  But  here 
my  case  was  dreadful,  if  not  awful.  I  could  not  get 
out ;  the  house  was  thronged.  One  would  be  pressing 
his  way  through  the  room  to  the  stable,  with  a  horse, 
and  pause  to  take  a  survey  from  head  to  foot.  Another 
would  be  tying  up  a  bag,  and  suddenly  stop,  and  look 
me  full  in  the  face.  A  third  would  let  her  burden 
from  her  back,  minutely  examine  me,  then  turn  to  the 
master  or  mistress,  and  in  Irish  make  her  comments. 
In  short,  if  I  never  was  noticed  before,  this  day  I  was 
a  distinguished  personage.  Scarcely  a  word  of  English 
was  spoken  through  the  day,  and  therefore  I  could 
gather  but  little,  only  through  my  eyes,  except  by  the 
woman  and  her  honest  pig.  She  performed  in  plain 
English. 

When  night  arrived,  all  dispersed.  My  Connaught- 
man,  who  had  entertained  me  the  evening  previous, 
again  called  to  beg  me  when  I  should  be  in  Galway,  to 
go  in  and  see  that  dreadful  church  where  he  had  been 


CHAP.  IX.]  CO.  OP  GALWAY.  177 

so  frightened  ;  ^' and  should  ye  see  the  man  in  black, 
then  ye'll  pity  me."  He  insisted,  too,  that  I  should 
take  him  home  with  me  as  a  servant.  "  And  do  ye 
think,  Micky,  the  gentlewoman  would  have  ye  walkin' 
by  the  side  of  her  .?"  said  the  landlord. 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Micky,  "  I  would  walk  behind  her, 
if  I  could  only  see  her  country."  However  remote  I 
might  find  the  peasantry  from  society,  however  ignorant 
of  books,  however  cunning,  or  however  simple,  they  all 
knew  something  of  America,  and  all  were  hoping  some 
day  or  other  to  see  it.  Their  questions  would  often  be 
intelligent  on  the  geography  of  the  country,  and  often 
they  would  make  serious  blunders,  yet  all  would  be 
correct  in  some  particulars. *" 

The  noise  of  the  scripture-reading  the  preceding 
evening  had  gone  far  and  wide,  and  many  called  in  to 
ask  the  mistress  if  the  kind  lady  would  read  again. 
This  was  unexpected,  but  gladly  did  I  comply.  The 
poor  sim-ple  men  often  exclaimed,  "  Why  did  we  never 
hear  this  .^"  Paddy,  the  master  of  the  house,  could 
read  well,  and  was  somewhat  skilled  in  debate,  and  the 
Virgin  Mary  was  introduced.  I  asked  him  if  he 
believed  the  Testament  I  had  in  my  hand  to  be  true  ? 
He  said,  "  Yes,  every  word  of  it.''  "  The  last  chapter 
in  that  book  says,  '  whosoever  adds  to  it,  God  shall  add 
all  the  plagues,  etc'  Now  in  all  that  book  not  an 
indirect  mention  is  made  of  any  adoration  that  must 
be  made  to  the  Virgin. "  The  wife  instantly  exclaimed, 
"  Now,  Pat,  what  have  ye  to  say  ?  You're  sack'd, 
you're  sack'd,  and  Pm  glad  of  it."  When  any  one 
entered  to  stop  a  little,  she  would  repeat  it,  saying, 
"Aw!  you  could  not  answer  that,  my  lad."  Though 
she  was  still  in  the  church,  yet  she  had  read  and  thought 
for  herself;  and  could  multitudes  of  these  people  be 
taken  by  the  hand,  and  led  out  from  the  machinery 
with  which  they  are  surrounded,  they  would  drink  in 
with  eagerness  the  Gospel  of  life.     I  related  to  them 

♦  It  is  not  to  introduce  America  in  every  page  that  mention  is  so 
often  made  of  it,  but  to  show  the  peasantry. 
8* 


178  CO.  OF  GALWAY.  [chap.  ix. 

stories  from  tlie  BiWe  which  they  had  never  heard ;  yet 
the  story  of  Calvary  was  well  understood,  and  they 
made  a  better  application  of  the  scriptures  they  did 
know,  than  do  many  who  read  them  daily. 

Friday. — Early  I  prepared  for  a  walk  of  eighteen 
miles  to  Galway.  The  road  was  mudd}^,  and  there  was 
quite  an  appearance  of  rain.  The  kind  people  did  all 
they  could  do  for  my  comfort,  and  asked  me  two-pence 
a  night  for  my  lodging.  This  was  the  stated  price  to 
all.  I  was  soon  joined  by  a  man  and  his  wife,  with  a 
car,  riding  alternately,  which  made  the  journey  slow, 
and  they  kindly  relieved  me  of  my  basket ;  and  I  walked 
nine  miles  with  tolerable  ease.  I  was  resting  upon  a 
stone  when  the  post-car  arrived,  and  offered  to  take  me 
to  Galway  for  a  shilling.  I  paid  it,  light  as  was  my 
purse,  and  reached  the  town  at  two  o'clock,  with  half- 
a-crown. 

This  ancient  sea-port  is  celebrated  in  history  for 
many  a  wonderful  tale.  It  is  not  an  inviting  city  for 
a  stranger,  on  a  muddy  day ;  the  suburbs  are  wretched 
in  the  extreme,  and  not  in  all  Ireland,  Bantry  excepted, 
can  there  be  found  more  that  is  forbidding  to  the  eyes 
of  strangers.  The  fishwomen,  which  are  abundant 
there,  are  coarse  and  ugly  in  their  looks,  and  none  in 
all  Connaught  could  exceed  them  in  staring ;  and  fol- 
low me  they  would,  from  street  to  street,  from  shop  to 
shop. 

I  found  a  comfortable  lodging-house  in  some  respects, 
and  in  some  it  was  uncomfortable ;  but  knowing  that 
slender  purses  must  not  put  on  airs,  J  went  to  the  post- 
office  to  ascertain  whether  a  letter  were  in  waiting,  but 
found  none.  Sixpence  a  night  for  lodging  was  the 
price,  and  find  my  own  potatoes.  I  had  five  sixpences, 
and  with  these  I  must  make  my  way  back  to  Kilkenny. 
I  had  no  fear,  for  I  knew  all  would  be  right,  and  so  I 
perambulated  the  town,  and  saw  what  I  could  see, 
enjoyed  what  I  could  enjoy,  and  then  went  home  for 
the  night. 

The  next  morning  I  walked  to  the  docks,  and  would 
not  forget  to  say,  that  in  Galway  I  never  went  alone. 


CHAP.  IX.]  CO.  OF  GALWAY.  179 

A  man  or  two,  and  perhaps  half-a-dozen  women,  would 
be  in  comfortable  staring  distance ;  and  this  morning, 
dreading  the  repetition  of  the  yesterday's  annoyance, 
I  went  early,  but  a  Connaughtman  was  on  the  spot, 
with  pipe  and  dog ;  nor  did  he  leave  me,  nor  did  he 
speak  to  me,  nor  did  he  cease  staring  at  me,  when  the 
position  was  a  favorable  one.  The  docks  have  been 
built  at  immense  expense,  and  the  unfortunate  man 
who  pledged  himself  to  do  the  work  died  with  grief  at 
his  misfortunes.  A  few  solitary  masts  were  bowing 
gently  to  the  breeze,  only  mementoes  of  Ireland's  dearth 
of  commerce.  This  ancient  harbor  has  been  the  depot 
of  many  a  bloody  vessel,  laden  with  instruments  of 
death  and  carnage,  to  lay  waste  the  fair  isle  ;  and  many 
a  startling  legend  is  now  related  of  deeds  of  darkness 
and  of  murder,  which  have  ever  blotted  the  fame  of  this 
bright  gem  of  the  sea. 

Overlooking  the  harbor  is  the  oldest  burying-ground 
in  Galway,  and  it  is  literally  crammed  with  the  dead. 
Throughout  Ireland,  in  every  large  town,  there  seems 
to  be  some  pre-eminent  burying-place,  which  has  pecu- 
liar virtues,  on  account  of  some  holy  man  or  men  having 
honored  it  by  their  bones ;  and  there,  while  living,  the 
eye  is  directed  as  the  most  desirable  bed  in  which  to 
sleep  when  dead.  The  opening  through  a  tumbling 
wall  was  free,  and  thither  I  repaired,  with  the  Con- 
naughtman and  dog  in  pursuit. 

*'  What  walls  can  guard  me,  or  what  shades  can  hide  V 

I  was  really  afflicted ;  I  had  chosen  this  early  hour, 
before  seven,  that  I  might  unmolested  enjoy  in  that 
harbor  and  churchyard  a  little  reflection,  where  star- 
ing eyes  would  not  settle  on  my  face,  or  smoke  of 
tobacco  penetrate  my  nose.  And  like  the  poor  afflicted 
man  in  the  church,  I  "  ran  here,  and  I  ran  there,"  and 
dodged  behind  the  tomb-stones,  but  could  not  escape; 
he  was  there,  bending  over  the  top,  in  full  gaze  upon 
me;  and  could  I  have  spoken  Irish,  and  told  who  I 
was,  and  what  was  my  errand,  as  I  had  often  done, 


180  CO.  OF  GALWAY.  [chap.  ii. 

there  might  have  been  some  hope  in  my  case.  I  left 
the  spot  in  vexation  and  despair,  and  he  left  it  too. 

I  would  not  join  in  all  the  ridicule  and  censure 
which  the  world  has  ever  been  ready  to  heap  on  suffer- 
ing Connaught.  There  is  good  sense,  there  is  wit, 
there  is  benevolence,  and  there  is  intelligence  too. 
Even  in  many  a  smoky  hut  have  I  sat  down,  and  been 
profited  as  well  as  amused,  by  the  knowledge  they  had 
acquired,  and  their  manner  of  communicating  it.  They 
are  an  inquisitive  people.  They  desire  to  come  at  the 
whys  and  the  wherefores ;  and  if  defeated  in  one  way, 
they  will  resort  to  another.  I  was  the  strangest  anom- 
aly that  had  ever  visited  them,  and  as  I  could  not  speak 
Irish,  what  could  not  be  gained  by  talking  must  be 
made  out  in  gaping.  Let  this  serve  as  an  apology, 
though  it  did  not  lessen  my  indescribable  vexation.  I 
was  in  torment  "for  a'  that." 

On  my  return,  the  market  people  were  assembling, 
and  my  way  was  so  hedged  up,  that  in  the  fruitless  ef- 
fort to  make  a  passage  out  in  the  right  direction,  I  be- 
came so  confused  that  all  points  of  the  compass  were 
alike  ;  and  my  only  concern  was  not  to  lose  the  little 
sense  remaining  in  me.  Not  a  creature  would  budge, 
for  they  had  me  in  close  keeping,  and  no  time  should 
be  lost  in  making  out  "  the  cratur."  At  length  I  was 
free,  and  begged  of  a  woman,  at  the  door  of  her  house, 
to  place  me  in  a  right  direction.  She  kindly  did  so, 
and  I  returned  and  seated  myself  over  the  turf  fire  in  the 
corner,  to  fix  on  some  other  peregrination  ;  and  resolved 
to  make  a  call  on  the  Presbyterian  clergyman  located 
there,  having  been  told  by  the  gentleman  of  the  house 
where  I  lodged,  that  he  was  approachable,  and  knew 
much  of  the  country. 

I  had  no  letter  of  introduction,  and  felt  much  more 
independent  on  that  account.  Knowing  that  from 
humble  poverty  he  had  become  somewhat  affluent  by 
marriage,  and  lived  in  aristocratic  style,  I  knew  with 
such  that  the  forms  of  etiquette  must  be  most  strictly 
regarded,  and  was  careful  that  strings  and  pins  should 
all  be  in  their  proper  place.     The  walk  was  a  long  one, 


CHAP.  IX.]  CO.  OF  GAL  WAY.  181 

the  road  muddy,  and  the  gibbering  of  all  who  pre- 
tended to  direct  me  in  the  right  course  so  confused  me, 
that  I  was  in  danger  of  a  return  of  the  morning's  mood ; 
but  finally  the  lodge  belonging  to  the  clergyman  intro- 
duced me  to  a  fine  gravel  walk  leading  to  the  mansion, 
and  I  was  soon  knocking  at  his  ministerial  door.  A 
young  interesting  girl  opened  it.  I  l^anded  her  my 
card,  requesting  it  might  be  given  to  Mi\  F,  She  did 
so,  and  soon  returned  with  the  card  and  Mr.  F's  an- 
swer, "  Mr. says  he  has  nothing  to  give  to  day."* 

Disgust  and  indignation  struggled  a  moment,  and  ele- 
vating my  voice,  so  that  he  might  hear,  I  said  "Say 
to  Mr.  F.  I  did  not  come  to  ask  charity,  but  a  few 
questions,  which  to  me  were  important."  "  Tell  the 
woman  she  may  come  in,"  was  the  prompt  reply.  The 
woman  did  go  in,  and  found  the  man  of  the  pulpit  sit- 
ting near  a  table,  with  a  newspaper  as  large  as  a  small 
pocket-handkerchief  in  his  hand,  a  dandy  watch-chain 
hanging  in  dandy  manner  about  his  neck,  slippers  on 
his  feet,  and  dress  in  like  accordance. 

His  wife  was  much  older  than  her  spouse,  and  what 
she  lacked  in  youth  and  beauty  was  imperfectly  made 
up  in  frippery.  Her  dress  was  a  crimson  colored 
satin  ;  a  gold  watch  was  glistening  at  her  side,  and  pink 
ribbons  were  about  her  cap,  neck,  and  arms  ;  but  to  her 
credit  be  it  said,  she  was  sewing.  The  fact  is  worth 
naming,  because  it  was  the  first  time  I  had  seen  in  the 
country  a  fashionable  lady  with  plain  sewing  in  her 
hands.  As  I  looked  upon  the  inmates  of  this  well- 
trimmed  parlor,  and  upon  the  lord  especially  that 
adorned  it,  I  said,  "  Can  this  be  a  messenger  from  God, 
to  announce  to  a  lost  world  the  gospel  of  truth. 

"  Lay  not  careless  hands  on  sculls  that  cannot 
Teach  and  will  not  learn." 

After  adjusting  himself  in  speaking  attitude,  he  con- 
descended to  say,  "  I  will  answer  any  question  respect- 
ing the  state  of  the  churches  you  may  ask."     He  spoke 

*  Whether  the  beggars  in  Galway  carried  cards,  when  they 
solicit  alms  I  did  not  learn. 


182  CO.  OF  GAL  WAY.  [chap.  ix. 

of  the  poor  as  being  in  a  deplorable  state,  and  tbe  wife 
said  my  object  was  certainly  a  laudable  one,  and  sbe 
presumed  1  found  tlie  people  kind.  "  So  much  so,'' 
was  my  answer,  "  that  I  had  sometimes  thought  it 
would  be  best  to  keep  them  so  ;  for  when  a  few 
hundreds  were  added,  I  had  seen  them  almost  entirely 
divested  of  humanity,  if  not  of  common  civility."  My 
good  parson  found  a  loop-hole,  for  he  said,  "  Ah,  you 
don't  know  the  poor  as  well  as  I  do  ;  they  are  curu|ing, 
and  all  the  kindness  they  show  is  to  get  favors."  '^Not 
so  had  I  found  it ;"  I  could  say,  "  that  when  they  saw 
me  weary,  and. I  told  them  my  journey  must  be  has- 
tened because  my  mcmey  was  well  nigh  spent,  then 
was  the  time  when  they  doubled  their  entreaties  to 
detain  me,  without  charges."  A  few  months  before 
this,  in  the  cabins  of  the  poor,  this  man  could  be  found 
reading  to  them,  and  kindly  administering  to  their 
wants.  He  was  then  pQ^,  and  employed  as  a  Bible 
reader,  "  and  now,"  said  tne  wife  of  a  curate,  "  he  can 
only  alford  pennies,  where  he  could  give  shillings  at 
that  time."  It  was  getting  late;  I  talked  of  muddy 
streets,  of  rain,  the  difficulty  of  the  way,  the  many 
hours  I  had  been  out — all  to  no  purpose ;  his  pantry 
would  not  unlock,  nor  did  a  "  cup  of  cold  water"  greet 
my  lips.  I  left  wiser  than  when  I  went,  and  the  next 
day  heard  a  sermon  from  this  same  man  on  Christian 
benevolence,  expatiating  on  its  importance,  and  its 
benefits  to  the  soul.  His  congregation  was  small,  and 
part  of  them  were  soldiers  in  military  dress,  with  the 
weapons  of  death  standing  by  their  side.  Certainly 
the  Christian  church  has  got  a  very  supple  kind  of  re- 
ligion, if  these  warlike  principles  can  find  a  shelter  in 
it. 

On  my  return  to  my  lodgings,  I  saw  a  company 
of  men  assembled  in  a  square,  and  supposed  something 
new  had  gathered  them  ;  but  drawing  nearer,  found  it 
was  a  collection  of  poor  countrymen  from  distant  parts, 
who  had  come  hoping  on  the  morrow  to  find  a  little 
work.  Each  man  had  his  spade,  and  all  were  standing 
in  a  waiting  posture,   in   silence,   hungry  and  weary ; 


CHAP.  IX.]  CO.  OF  GAL  WAY.  183 

for  many,  I  was  told,  had  walked  fifteen  or  twenty  miles 
witliout  eating,  nor  did  they  expect  to  eat  that  day. 
Sixpence  a  day  was  ail  they  could  get,  and  they  could 
not  afford  food  on  the  Sabbath,  when  they  could  not 
work.  Their  dress  and  their  desponding  looks  told  too 
well  the  tale  of  their  sufferings.  When  I  had  passed 
them,  looking  about,  one  was  near  me,  walking  slowly, 
picking  a  few  shreds  carelessly  in  his  fingers,  his  coun- 
tenance such  a  finished  picture  of  despair,  as  said,  "  It 
is  done;  I  can  do  no  more."  I  three  times  halted,  and 
paused  to  speak  to  him,  but  could  not  give  utterance ; 
as  soon  as  I  met  his  countenance,  hunger,  wife,  children, 
and  despair  were  so  visible,  that  I  turned  away,  and 
could  only  say,  "  Good  God !  have  mercy  on  poor 
Ireland." 

When  I  reached  my  lodgings,  the  landlord  remarked, 
that  every  week  the  poor  creatures  are  coming  in  from 
the  country,  and  often  they  stay  two  days  without  eat- 
ing, watching  and  hoping  a  chance  may  come  ;  and  sleep 
where  they  can  ;  and  then  most  of  them  go  away,  with- 
out getting  any  work.  "  Go  to  now,  ye  rich  men,  weep 
and  howl." 

My  lodgings  should  not  pass  entirely  unnoticed.  In 
all  lodging-houses  I  had  found  that  a  single  room  was 
an  extra  privilege  scarcely  to  be  expected ;  and  often 
the  man,  woman,  and  children  would  be  fixed  in  the 
same  apartment,  with  one  or  two  transient  lodgers,  as 
the  case  might  be.  This  is  not  so  in  hotels.  In  this 
house,  the  apartments  looked  tidy  ;  and  I  was  shown  to 
a  chamber  where  were  two  curtained  beds  ;  one  of  these 
I  was  to  occupy.  Before  retiring,  the  woman  said,  *'  I 
shall  sleep  down  stairs,  the  child  is  sick,  and  nobody 
will  be  in  your  room  but  John,"  "Who  is  John  .'''  I 
asked.  "  My  old  man,"  was  the  reply.  "Your  old 
man  !  Be  assured,  madam,  I  shall  be  your  company 
down  here  then."  "  That  you  don't ;  you  shall  Lave  a 
good  bed,  and  room  where  you  can  rest."  The  matter 
was  settled  by  telling  her  in  plain  English  I  would  not 
go  into  the  chamber.  As  a  penance,  I  was  put  into  a 
confined  room,  with  her  mother  and  sick  boy  across  the 


184  CO.  OF  GALWAY.  [chap.  ix. 

foot  of  my  bed,  bolstered  and  tucked  against  the  wall, 
so  that  there  was  no  danger  of  falling  out  or  off.  The 
poor  old  mother  was  dying  with  the  asthma,  keeping  up 
almost  a  continued  cough,  and  could  not  lie  down  ;  and 
when  she  was  not  coughing,  her  unearthly  breathing  so 
frightened  me,  fearing  she  was  in  death-agonies,  I  kept 
calling,  "  Woman,  woman  !"  (for  I  did  not  know  her 
name).  When  she  was  coughing,  she  could  not  sleep  ; 
and  when  she  slept,  I  could  not  wake  her.  Nothing 
but  the  cough  could  do  it.  Thus  two  doleful  nights  I 
kept  my  eyes  waking,  not  conscious  that  I  slept  at 
all  ;  the  third  night  I  slept  a  little  from  downright  ne- 
cessity. But  complaining  was  out  of  the  question ; 
there  was  an  empty  bed,  and  the  wife  seemed  glad  to 
punish  me  for  casting  contempt  on  as  good  and  as  quiet 
a  man  as  there  was  in  all  Galway. 

Monday,  at  two  o'clock,  finding  my  letters  had  not 
arrived,  and  that  three  nights  had  made  quite  an  inroad 
into  my  half-crown,  I  saw  that  a  walk  to  Urlingford  was 
the  only  alternative.  The  kind  woman  urged  me  to 
stay  another  night,  and  when  I  told  her  my  money  was 
nearly  spent,  she  invited  me  to  stop  free  from  charge  ;  I 
did  not,  and  the  mud  and  clay  made  me  almost  regret 
that  I  had  refused. 

A  young  student  from  Dublin,  who  was  lodging  in 
the  same  house,  accompanied  me  two  miles  out  of  the 
dreadful  suburbs  of  that  city,  which  for  filth  and  wretch- 
edness exceeded  all  I  had  seen.  I  could  do  no  more  than 
look  in,  for  an  attempt  to  wade  through  would  be  next 
to  perilous.  When  the  young  man  returned  me  my 
basket,  he  said,  "  You  will  reach  Oranmore  by  dark, 
if  you  hasten  (a  distance  of  two  miles  and  a  half),  and 
possibly  I  may  see  you  in  Dublin."  I  had  no  alterna- 
tive but  to  nerve  myself  for  what  was  before  me.  Oran- 
more I  had  never  seen  ;  I  might  not  reach  it  till  dark ; 
and  then  a  lodging !  this  was  the  most  to  be  dreaded  of 
all.  On  I  went,  sometimes  leaving  a  shoe  in  the  clay, 
and  never  finding  a  dry  spot  for  my  feet,  till  at  sunset 
the  little  town  was  reached.  Two  applications  for 
lodgings  were  refused,  both  full;  the  third  one  rcceiv- 


CHAP.  IX.]  CO.  OF  GAL  WAY.  185 

ed  mc.  But  when  I  asked,  "  Will  you  give  me  a  clean 
bed.?" 

"  I  had  rather  have  two  men  than  one  woman,"  was 
the  answer;  ^'two  men  will  sleep  together,  and  make  no 
fuss  ;  but  women  are  always  finding  fault." 

"True,"  I  said,  "we  always  find  it  so  in  New 
York." 

"  New  York  !  have  you  lived  in  New  York  ?  I  too 
was  there  six  years,  and  wish  I  was  back  again ;  but 
my  husband  was  homesick,  and  would  not  stay." 

Everything  was  now  reversed ;  she  thanked  God  for 
bringing  me,  telling  me  I  might  stay  in  welcome  as 
long  as  I  would.  She  took  me  into  a  snug  room,  and 
said,  "  See  !  I  keep  my  beds  as  they  do  in  New  York ; 
make  them  up  nicely,  and  leave  oif  the  sheets  till  a 
lodger  comes,  and  then  give  him  coarse  or  fine,  flannel 
or  linen,  as  he  may  choose,  and  you  may  have  which 
you  like."  This  was  turning  the  picture  indeed. 
Pat  came  in,  and  made  me  as  welcome ;  and  we  talked 
of  New  York  to  our  heart's  content.  "  I  was  a  fool," 
said  Pat,  "  that  I  came  away." 

She  lived  with  a  clergyman's  family,  though  she  was 
married  before  leaving  Ireland,  and  Pat  was  employed 
elsewhere.  They  had  not  been  idle  or  improvident, 
but  saved  considerable,  and  returned  to  spend  it  in  their 
own  country.  They  kept  a  shop  and  lodgers,  and  had 
many  little  comforts  which  are  not  common  in  Ireland. 
This  was  truly  a  pleasant  evening  to  me,  and  the  next 
day  rain  kept  me  there,  much  apparently  to  the  gratifi- 
cation of  the  kind  creature.  I  told  her  what  a  fearful 
purse  I  carried  ;  "  and  I'd  not  empty  it  of  a  farthing,  if 
you  had  a  million." 

Reader,  wonder  not  that  I  love  the  peasantry  of  Ire- 
land. Imagine  yourself  in  my  real  condition  and  state 
of  mind  when  I  entered  that  house,  and  then  meet  the 
same  kind,  unmerited,  unexpected. reception  from  those 
for  whom  you  had  done  nothing,  and  feel  yourself 
changed  into  a  friend,  instead  of  a  stranger  and  a  lodger. 
We  talked  and  read  till  a  late  hour,  and  then  I  slept 
undisturbed. 


186  CO.  OF  GALWAY.  [chap.  ix. 

The  reader  may  be  told,  if  he  never  heard  it  whis- 
pered, that  the  Irish  as  a  people  have  a  quantum  of 
leisure  on  their  hands.  The  cabin  housewife  has  done 
her  morning's  toil,  when  the  potato  is  eaten  and  the 
pigs  and  fowl  have  been  fed  ;  no  making  of  bread,  no 
scouring  of  brass  and  silver,  no  scrubbing  of  floors, 
or  cleaning  of  paint,  makes  her  toil  heavy  ;  and  in  a 
few  weeks'  travel  I  found  that,  when  I  stopped  in  a  vil- 
lage for  the  night,  and  wished  to  make  the  most  of  my 
visit,  nothing  was  necessary  but  to  call  at  some  cabin, 
tell  them  I  was  an  American,  and  had  come  to  see 
the  poor,  and  ask  them  to  direct  me  to  a  good  lodging 
house.  This  was  electricity  itself ;  all  and  everything 
that  could  be  done  would  be,  and  by  the  time  the 
lodgino;  house  was  found,  the  fame  had  reached  throus^h 
the  little  hamlet,  and  a  levee  was  on  the  spot  in  a  few 
minutes.  So  in  Oranmore  ;  but  the  good  woman  of 
the  house,  putting  on  some  of  her  American  notions 
of  propriety,  insisted  that  I  should  not  be  ''  gaped  to 
death,"  and  often  told  them  in  sober  earnest,  that  they 
must  keep  away,  unless  they  had  some  business  to  the 
shop.  All  was  unavailing.  Night  and  day  they  were 
squatting  about  me,  admiring  my  comely  dress  and 
comely  hair,  telling  me  that  my  face  was  young,  and 
many  a  good  day  was  before  me  yet  ;  and  seldom  did 
they  leave,  till  they  made  me  both  young  and  beauti- 
ful, with  the  best  of  all  appendages  added,  a  heavy 
purse  of  money.  Here  I  talked  and  here  I  listened, 
here  I  read  and  they  listened,  and  the  little  village 
of  Oranmore  will  always  be  held  in  pleasant  remem- 
brance. 

But,  kind  reader,  no  bliss  is  perfect,  and  here  in 
this  happy  group  was  one  which,  when  I  looked  and 
while  I  write,  was  and  is  an  object  of  painful,  pitiful, 
and  ludicrous  contemplation.  It  was  a  mountain  Con- 
nemara  girl.  I  found  that  the  district  of  Conneraara, 
through  all  Ireland,  was  considered  as  a  distinct  item 
altogether.  This  people  are  pointed  out  to  strangers 
as  the  Americans  would  point  you  to  the  wildest  tribes 
of  their  Indians.     Here  is  one  before  us,  and  though 


CHAP.  IX.]  CO.  OF  GALWAY.  187 

faintly  described,  yet  what  is  drawn  is  as  near  the 
truth  itself  as  my  skill  and  pencilling  can  make  it.  She 
was  in  this  lodging  house  to  take  the  charge  of  a  sick 
boy  who  had  come  there  for  a  season.  She  was  dressed 
in  red  flannel,  the  costume  of  all  the  mountain  peasant- 
ry of  that  country,  and  this  color,  they  tell  you,  is  cho- 
sen to  keep  away  the  fairies.  Leaving  the  dress,  we  will 
look  at  the  person.  She  was  tall,  thick-set,  had  broad 
shoulders,  high  cheek  bones,  small  eyes,  and  near  toge- 
ther ;  black  coarse  hair,  cut  square  upon  a  low  forehead, 
and  body  and  limbs  of  huge  dimensions.  Two  broadly- 
spread  feet,  which  had  never  been  cramped  by  cloth  or 
leather,  told  you  that  they  had  braved  every  hardship 
incident  to  feet  in  any  climate  or  nation.  These  pedes- 
tals were  surmounted  by  two  pillars,  which  wanted  nei- 
ther strength  nor  size ;  and  when  she  moved,  it  was  al- 
ways with  a  grace  peculiar  to  herself,  and  when  she  sat 
down,  it  was  always  upon  the  floor.  This  flannel  dress 
was  cut  after  the  same  model  of  all  her  countrywomen's, 
being  a  jacket  pinned  closely  about  her  ;  a  petticoat  not 
so  long  by  some  twelve  inches  as  modern  custom  sanc- 
tions ;  and  beside  it  had  undergone  great  changes  since 
it  left  the  loom,  for  wear  and  tear  had  fringed  and  frill- 
ed it,  and  though  it  legally  belonged  to  the  jacket,  yet 
its  binding  was  reaching  up  two  inches  below  it.  Thus, 
cap-a-pie,  dress  and  symmetry,  she  made  out  such  a  fig- 
ure as  the  tenderest  heart  might  encounter  without  fear 
of  being  broken. 

She  had  another  qualification,  viz.  that  of  singing: 
this  was  always  performed  in  Irish,  and  with  tones  and 
gestures  which  made  every  auditor  feel  to  the  bottom  of 
his  soul.  I  had  often  heard  her,  and  one  day  had  a  cu- 
riosity to  look  into  the  kitchen  where  she  was  at  work, 
to  see  her  unperceived  when  singing  ;  and  imprudently 
laughed,  not  in  ridicule,  but  because  it  was  wholly  una- 
voidable ;  she  heard,  and  would  never  sing  again.  No 
apologies  on  my  part,  and  no  entreaties  of  the  mistress 
could  ever  prevail. 

"  She  dispraises  me,"  was  the  answer.  She  would 
never  eat,  but  sitting  upon  the  floor  with  both  elbows 


188  CO.  OF  GALWAY.  [chap.  ix. 

upon  her  knees,  and  the  potato  between  botli  hands, 
taking  the  "  bit"  without  putting  the  potato  down, 
gnawing  it  until  it  all  was  finished  ;  then  she  would  take 
the  "sup,"  and  raise  another  potato  to  her  lips, 
and  go  on. 

I  could  never  look  on  this  strange  excrescence  without 
wonder,  and  asking  on  what  commission  could  she  have 
been  sent  into  a  world  like  this.  But  I  should  do  great 
injustice,  yes,  I  should  sin,  should  I  leave  the  picture 
here.  I  should  be  holding  up  to  ridicule  a  being  of  God, 
who  may  have  more  favor  in  his  eyes  than  the  writer ; 
and  though  this  is  not  a  caricature  but  a  true  picture, 
yet  there  is  another  side  to  it,  and  I  would  be  guilty, 
like  Ananias,  of  keeping  back  a  part  of  the  price,  should 
1  not  show  it. 

Ireland,  above  all  nations  of  the  earth,  has  suffered 
most  in  her  character  by  the  ignorant  and  too  often 
malicious  injustice  of  vn^iters,  who  were  either  awed  by 
the  opinion  of  others,  or  incapable  of  discriunnation 
themselves.  They  have  caught  her  fairy  tales,  they 
have  gathered  up  her  blunders,  they  have  poetically 
told  of  her  "  gems  of  the  mountains  and  pearls  of  the 
ocean,"  they  have  laughed  at  her  tatters  ;  but  who  has 
lifted  these  tatters,  and  shown  to  the  world  that  under 
them  is  buried  every  noble  principle  that  could  elevate 
a  people  f  Yes,  the  poor  cringing  laborer,  touching  his 
hat  to  the  haughty  lord,  who  never  looked  manfully  in 
the  face  of  him  he  served,  has  a  soul  burning  within  him 
capable  of  all  that  is  praiseworthy,  of  all  that  is  god- 
like. And  would  justice  be  allowed  to  lift  her  voice  in 
his  behalf,  that  soul  would  look  out,  and  speak,  '^  I, 
too,  am  a  man."  Yes,  the  poor  Irishman  has  a  mind 
that  can  and  does  think  ;  but,  like  the  American 
slave,  he  is  told  by  his  master,  and  he  is  told  by  all 
the  world,  "  You  do  the  working  and  I'll  do  the 
thinking." 

I  must  return  to  my  Connemara  woman,  and  say  she 
possessed  the  greatest  kindness  of  heart,  and  felt  the 
least  attention  given  to  her  as  the  highest  favor.  She 
was   unobtrusive,  and  shrunk   from   the   least   rebuke 


CHAP.  X.]  CO.  OF  GALWAY.  189 

in  look  or  word,  though  without  the  least  appearance  of 
anger.  She  would  watch  to  do  some  little  favor  to  the 
mistress  or  me,  and  to  do  it  in  the  most  quiet  and  unas- 
suming manner.  When  I  left,  and  oiBfered  her  my  hand, 
she  hesitated,  looked  at  the  mistress,  then  at  me,  and 
from  a  kind  of  wild  smile  she  settled  into  a  seriousness 
that  seemed  to  say,  that  she  thought  herself  an  outcast, 
unworthy  the  notice  of  any.  Her  every  look  and  action 
indicated  that  she  felt  she  was  an  exile  from  all  the 
world,  and  must  ever  remain  so.  She  was  faithful  and 
trustworthy  to  the  last  degree,  and  had  she  been  born 
on  any  mountain  but  a  Connemara  one,  she  might  have 
escaped  the  imputation  of  being  the  ugliest  and  most 
awkward  woman  in  Ireland. 


CHAPTER  X. 

Walk  to  Loughrea— Thoughts  of  Home— A  New  Day— A  Fellow  Traveller 
—Cabin  Theology— Such  a  Bed  !— Eyre-Court— Hearty  Welcome  in  Ba- 
nagher — An  Anxious  Mother — A  Noble-hearted  Daughter — Incursion  of  a 
Troop  of  Connaughtmen  into  an  Inn,  and  how  they  behaved  themselves — 
Visit  to  Mr.  S.— Rejection— Christian  kindness  of  Poor  Mary  and  her  Bro- 
ther. 

The  time  to  go  arrived,  and  at  ten  o'clock  the  sun 
looked  out,  and  I  promised  my  urgent  friend,  should 
the  clayey  road  be  impassable,  I  would  return  and 
spend  another  night ;  and  though  for  four  Irish  miles  I 
was  literally  sticking  in  clay,  I  kept  on,  hoping  the 
road  would  improve,  and  stopping  when  I  could  walk 
no  longer,  and  feeling  I  must  not  and  could  not  go 
back  ;  and  at  last  a  man  with  a  team  overtook  me,  say- 
ing, "  God  save  ye  kindly,  lady,  and  the  mountain  is  a 
long  one,  and  will  ye  put  the  basket  on  the  load  .^"  He 
kept  my  company  for  some  miles,  and  then  stopped  to 
feed  his  horses,  and  gave  me  my  basket ;  which,  to  my 
weary  feet,  already  blistered,  seemed  to  be  almost  an 
insupportable  clog,  and   much  more  so,  as  night  was 


190  CO.  OF  GALWAY.  [chap.  x. 

gathering,  the  mountains  were  wild  and  barren,  the  ca- 
bins, like  angels'  visits, 

"  Few  and  far  between." 

And  five  miles  long  and  dreary  I  walked,  and  met  not 
a  livino^  moving  being,  nor  could  I  find  a  stone  or  stick 
where  I  could  sit  down,  and  stand  still  or  walk  on  I 
must.  I  wished  to  reach  Loughrea  if  possible,  and 
hurried  on  till  my  strength  gave  way  ;  a  welcome  stone 
by  the  side  of  a  wall  met  my  eye ;  I  sat  down,  leaning 
my  back  against  the  wall,  and  looked  across  the  Atlan- 
tic. I  there  saw  cheerful  fires  lighted  ;  I  saw  friends 
gathered  around  them  ;  I  heard  them  say,  "  I  wish  I 
could  see  what  Mrs.  N.  is  doing  to-night.  By  this 
time  she  believes  we  told  her  the  truth,  when  we  ad- 
vised her  to  stay  at  home,  and  keep  out  of  difficulties 
which  she  must  unavoidably  meet  in  a  land  of  ignorant, 
reckless  strangers.  Pity  she  could  not  find  Irish 
enough  in  New  York  to  keep  her  busy,  without  going 
to  that  land  of  darkness.  Well !  she  always  would  have 
her  own  way,  and  she  must  abide  the  consequence."  I 
saw  too  my  own  once  happy  parlor  lighted,  and  the 
books  gathered  for  the  evening  :  and  did  I  wish  to  draw 
around  the  table,  and  participate  in  the  enjoyment .'' 
I  did  not.  No,  I  did  not.  Should  I  sleep  the  sleep  of 
death,  with  my  head  pillowed  against  this  wall,  no 
matter.  Let  the  passer-by  inscribe  my  epitaph  upon 
this  stone,  fanatic^  what  then  }  It  shall  only  be  a 
memento  that  one  in  a  foreign  land  loved  and  pitied 
Ireland,  and  did  what  she  could  to  seek  out  its  condi- 
tion. 

It  was  now  dark.  A  heavy  fog  and  mist  were 
gathering  fast,  and  I  could  scarcely  discern  the  earth 
from  the  sky.  A  man  passed.  "  Will  you  tell  me,  sir, 
how  far  it  is  to  Loughrea  .?"  "  Two  miles  and  a  half." 
"  Then  I  must  stop  by  this  wall  for  the  night.  I  can- 
not go  further."  "  Not  a  word  of  lyin',"  was  my 
only  consolation  from  the  man,  and  he  passed  on.  1 
arose,   and   made   an   effort   to  walk.      Another   man 


CHAP.  X.]  CO.  OF  GALWAY.  191 

passed.  The  same  interrogation  was  now  answered 
by,  '' A  mile  and  a  quarter."  This  was  gaining  rap- 
idly without  walking  a  yard,  and  passing  on  a  little,  I 
made  the  same  inquiry,  and  was  answered,  "  A  short 
mile,  ma'am."  I  was  confused,  and  knew  not  whom  to 
believe ;  but  was  so  willing  to  be  deceived,  that  by 
limping  and  halting,  wading,  and  inquiring  of  all  I  met, 
I  at  last  reached  the  twinkling  lights  of  the  suburbs  of 
the  town. 

The  kind  voice  of  the  woman  where  I  lodged  on  the 
journey  down,  was  music  to  my  ear,  and  Pat  was 
called  to  participate  in  the  joy.  '^  And  what  shall 
we  do  for  ye,  the  cratur  !"  A  long  box  was  in  the 
room.  I  flung  myself  upon  it,  and  for  an  hour,  amidst 
the  repeated  questions,  "  What  shall  we  do,  and  what 
can  ye  ate  ?  Ye'r  destroyed,  and  the  heart's  gone 
out  o'  ye,"  I  kept  my  position,  really  fearing  it  was 
over  with  me,  and  my  walking  was  ended.  I  had 
walked  eighteen  Irish  miles,  in  clay,  and  over  tedious 
mountains,  since  ten  o'clock.  My  situation  was  not  the 
most  flattering.  I  was  among  a  people,  though  kind, 
who  could  not  appreciate  the  object  of  my  visit  to  Ire- 
land. They  were  poor  and  needed  every  penny  which 
belonged  to  them.  I  was  a  stranger,  and  had  been 
accustomed  to  better  accommodations  than  they  could 
aff"ord,  had  been  disappointed  in  getting  my  money, 
and  could  not  reward  them  for  extra  attentions.  The 
lumbago,  which  for  many  months  had  made  me  a  crip- 
ple in  New  York,  now  threatened  a  visit,  and  the  sum 
total  was  not  the  most  pleasant.  Did  I  despond  }  No  ! 
my  philosophy  and  my  religion  (if  I  had  any)  came  to 
my  aid  ;  and  the  question.  Of  what  use  is  your  religion, 
if  it  will  not  sustain  you  in  a  time  of  need  ?  brought  me 
to  my  feet.  In  the  passing  of  this  hour  on  the  box,  I 
was  not  alone.  The  intelligence  had  reached  many  a 
cabin,  that  the  ''  plain-discoorsed  and  the  beautiful 
reader"  had  returned,  and  they  hastened  to  bid  her 
welcome.  Seeing  me  in  this  dilemma,  the  rejoicing 
was  turned  to  mourning,  and  the  "  cup  of  tay,  the  cup 
of  tay,  was  all  that  could  refresh  her,  the  cratur."     I 


192  CO,  OF  GAL  WAY.  [chap.  x. 

took  a  cup  of  cocoa,  bathed  my  feet,  and  reluctantly 
said  good  night,  being  too  much  fatigued  to  read  to 
them.  But  I  gave  them  my  hand,  and  from  my  heart 
did  I  pray  that  God  would  emancipate  poor  neglected 
Connaught. 

My  bed-room  and  appurtenances  were  not  in  the 
most  tempting  fix.  A  dirty  chaff  bed,  with  a  pile  of 
potatoes  at  the  head  of  it,  and  the  servant  across  the 
foot  said,  "Here  you  are."  I  passively  committed 
myself  to  the  care  of  Him  whose  aid  I  certainly  needed, 
and  whose  watchfulness,  I  felt,  had  ever  been  my  only 
support. 

I  slept,  awoke,  and  was  greatly  refreshed ;  and 
though  I  had  taken  but  a  few  ounces  of  food  since 
nine  the  previous  day,  I  felt  not  the  want  of  any. 
The  weather  had  changed  a  little  for  the  better,  and 
at  eleven  o'clock  I  took  my  last  shilling,  paid  my  fare, 
and  with  blessing  upon  blessing  on  my  head  from  the 
family  and  cabiners,  I  left  the  muddy,  miserable  looking 
town  of  Loughrea,  escorted  by  no  insignificant  number 
to  set  me  right. 

"  Rare  are  solitary  woes ;  they  love  a  train, 
They  tread  each  other's  heels." 

The  pleasant  change  now  turned  to  a  heavy  cold  mist, 
and  a  strong  wind  was  blowing  full  in  my  face.  The 
road  was  a  complete  bed  of  clay,  but  how  could  I  go 
back,  and  how  could  I  stay  there .''  The  way  was  quite 
lonely.  Now  and  then  a  solitary  cabin,  with  its  duck- 
pond  and  manure-heap  in  front,  hung  out  the  sad  in- 
signias  of  desolation  and  filth  within.  I  sat  down  upon 
a  stone — yes,  a  stone.  Ah  !  how  many  times  have  1 
in  Ireland  realised  the  literal  import  of  "  The  shadow 
of  a  great  rock  in  a  weary  land."  My  basket  was 
heavy  to  my  weary  feet,  when  suddenly  stood  before 
me  a  clean  barefooted  woman,  with  neither  bonnet, 
shawl,  or  cloak,  saying,  "God  save  ye  kindly,  lady; 
ye  look  wairy.     Shall  I  take  your  basket  a  bit  .^" 

O  that  sweet  voice  !  I  shall  never  forget  it.  Sorrow 
had  mellowed  it,  for  she  had  passed  lately  under  the 


CHAP.X.J  CO.  OF  GALWAY.  193 

merciless  hand  of  oppression.  "  And  how  far  may  ye 
be  walkin'  ?  I  am  on  this  way  a  bit,  and  will  lighten 
the  burden  of  your  feet  a  little.  I'm  sorry  to  see  so 
dacent  a  body  walkin'.  The  likes  of  me  are  used  to  it." 
I  felt  interested  to  know  her  history,  and  inquired  if 
she  had  a  family.  "  No,  thanks  be  to  God,  they're  all 
dead  but  one  little  gal,  and  if  Almighty  God  will 
spare  her  to  me,  it's  all  I'll  ask  of  him."  "  Have  you 
a  house  .'"  "  No,  praise  God,  when  my  husband  died, 
the  landlord  hunted  me  from  the  cabin  the  night  he 
was  put  in  the  ground."  "  And  where  did  you  find  a 
shelter  .^''  "  Praise  God,  a  poor  widow,  seeing  my  dis- 
tress, took  me  in,  and  1  get  my  bit  as  I  can.  The 
child  is  sick,  and  I've  been  to  Loughrea  this  mornin' 
for  a  little  medicine,  and  a  morsel  didn't  cross  my  lips 
since  yesterday."  We  were  then  seven  miles  from 
Loughrea,  making  fourteen  that  this  barefooted,  cloak- 
less  woman  had  walked,  and  it  was  now  nearly  three 
o'clock. 

Two  miles  we  walked  and  talked  together,  and  many 
a  judicious  hint  did  I  gather,  many  a  little  unmeaning 
disclosure  of  the  sufferings  of  the  poor  by  the  oppres- 
sion of  their  masters,  and  many  a  fulfillment  of  the 
promise  of  God  to  the  widow,  in  the  unexpected  helps 
she  received  when  desponding.  We  reached  the  muddy 
lane  that  led  to  the  cabin,  she  returned  me  the  basket, 
and  for  the  first  time  since  in  Ireland  I  felt  a  rising 
murmur  that  I  could  not  wipe  the  tear  from  the  eye 
of  the  widow,  by  giving  this  one  what  would  have  been 
a  little  token  of  my  kind  feelings,  and  made  her  at  least 
a  comfortable  breakfast.  "  I  would  not  take  it  from  a 
lone  stranger  like  you,"  was  the  answer,  when  I  told  her 
my  condition.  How  many  hearts  like  these  are  aching 
in  Ireland,  and  how  unheeded  do  their  sorrows  fall  on 
the  public  ear ! 

Alone  I  hurried  on  over  the  solitary  way,  the  most 
desolate  of  any  I  had  travelled.  There  seemed  to  be 
nothing  on  which  man  or  beast  could  comfortably 
subsist ;  and  no  shop,  where  a  mouthful  of  bread  could 
be  procured,  greeted  my  eye.  I  had  taken  but  a  half- 
9 


194  CO.  OF  GALWAY.  [chap.  x. 

penny  roll  in  the  morning,  and  began  to  desire  a  little 
food.  Night  came  on,  and  unexpectedly  I  found  myself 
in  a  muddy  little  village,  and  inquired  for  lodgings  ; 
was  refused  at  first  by  two,  and  almost  despaired  ;  but 
a  little  girl  introduced  me  to  a  house,  which,  if  it  had 
no  comforts,  had  yet  some  novelties,  and  I  had  an 
interesting  evening  with  the  most  ignorant  people  I 
had  met,  yet  not  deficient  in  Irish  cleverness.  The 
woman  said  she  had  no  place  but  one,  and  that  was 
filled  with  oats,  which  had  not  been  threshed,  but  two 
very  genteel  ladies  lodged  there  the  preceding  night. 
Oats  are  certainly  clean  dirt,  and  if  genteel  ladies  had 
slept  there,  I  assured  the  good  woman  I  would  not  be 
squeamish,  if  she  would  give  me  a  clean  bed.  But, 
kind  readers,  your  eyes  never  saw  that  bed  !  Now  all 
preliminaries  were  settled,  and  my  "  dacent  clothes  and 
proper  discoorse"  told  that  I  had  been  well  bred  and 
born,  and  must  have  ''  a  great  dale  of  money  in  my 
purse."  I  then  had  just  nine-pence,  and  was  fifty  miles 
from  my  place  of  destination. 

The  potatoes  were  boiling,  and  when  poured  upon 
the  table,  the  mistress  selected  three  of  the  finest  and 
fairest,  and  flung  them  into  my  lap.  This  was  the 
thing  needed,  for  I  had  concluded  to  go  to  bed  supper- 
less,  as  I  could  do  better  without  eating  than  sleeping. 
A  neighboring  woman  was  called  in,  and  when  she 
found  that  I  was  "  so  high  born,  that  my  accent  was 
so  plain,  and  that  I  could  discoorse  so  beautifully," 
she  was  delighted.  Pausing  a  moment,  she  abruptly 
said,  "  And  do  ye  give  in  to  the  blessed  Vairgin  r" 
...  "  Aw  !"  said  the  other,  "  what's  the  use  in  talkin' .'^ 
you  can't  confete  with  her."  [I  leave  the  reader,  if  he 
have  an  Irish  dictionary,  to  interpret  the  technicals  of 
the  language.]  Answering  her,  that  I  believed  the 
Virgin  was  a  good  woman,  and  that  she  is  now  in  hea- 
ven, but  the  Bible  had  never  told  me  to  worship  her. 
*'  The  Bible,  the  Bible  !  the  Church  says  so,  and  that's 
enough." 

"  But  God  says,   '  whoever  adds  to   that  book,   he 
will  add  unto  him  all  the  plagues  written  therein,'  "  &c. 


CHAP.  X.]  CO.  OP  GALWAY.  195 

"  There  !  there  !  I  tolcl  ye  so — I  told  ye,  ye  could'nt 
confete  with  her."  Pat  now  entered,  and  hearing  of  my 
heresy,  "  Ye're  wrong — ye 're  wrong."  "  There  now, 
ye've  got  your  match  in  Pat"  answered  the  exulting 
wife.  Pat  told  me  that,  "  whatever  I  might  plase  to 
ask  of  the  blessed  Vairgin,  if  I  asked  in  sincerity,  I 
should  be.  sure  to  have  it,  for  she  had  more  power  in 
heaven  than  every  saint  there." 

I  begged  the  talented  Pat,  if  he  had  nothing  to  do 
but  ask  any  favor  and  it  would  be  granted,  to  apply  im- 
mediately, and  have  her  remove  them  out  of  their  pov- 
erty and  filth,  and  give  them  their  rights  as  a  na- 
tion. 

^'  There — there,  Pat,  ye  may  stop  your  discoorse. 
There  now,  j^e  can't  confete  with  her,  and  I  told  ye  so 
in  the  beginnin'." 

"  And  did  ye  say  ye  don't  drink  the  tay  ?  Ye're  the 
first  dacent  woman  that's  born  and  bred  among  dacent 
people  that  don't  do  that."* 

"  Aw  !"  answered  the  visiting  woman,  "  there's  no 
use  in  talkin'.  She  hasn't  got  sinse ;  that  1  see  afore, 
poor  thing  !  she'd  never  left  so  fine  a  country  to  be 
walkin'  in  this,  if  she'd  the  right  sinse.  Aw  !  she's 
crack'd." 

I  certainly  admired  the  result  of  the  kind  woman's 
observation,  and  told  her  hundreds  in  Ireland,  of  better 
learning  than  she,  had  thought  the  same.  "  Give  her 
the  bed,  the  thing  !"  she  said  to  the  mistress  as  she  went 
out  ;  "  she's  wairy." 

Now  what  could  have  been  better  ?  These  ignorant, 
knowing  people,  when  they  had  come  to  the  conclusion 
of  my  lack  of  sense,  or  aberration  of  mind,  took  no 
advantage,  but  used  more  lenity;  for  though  I  had 
spoken  lightly,  as  they  thought,  of  the  Blessed  Virgin, 
and   dishonored   their    holy    faith,    yet   they   imputed 

*  Tea  drinking  is  a  mania  in  Ireland.  This  woman  boiled 
some  in  a  pint  cup,  and  supped  it  with  her  potato  without  milk  or 
sugar. 


19G  CO.  OF  GALWAY.  [chap.  x. 

this  to  "  a  lack  of  sinse,"  of  which  my  rejection  of  the 
tay,  and  laivin'  my  fine  country,  were  abundant  proofs. 

The  room  was  now  shown  me.  The  pile  of  straw, 
which  reached  nearly  to  the  upper  floor,  so  filled  the 
passage  to  the  bed,  that  I  made  my  way  with  some  diffi- 
culty, and  the  first  fair  and  full  glance  of  the  bedding, 
by  the  light  of  a  candle,  so  filled  my  eyes,  that  I  extin- 
guished the  light  instantly.  I  knew  that  a  second  look 
would  keep  me  out  of  it,  and  rest  I  much  needed. 

And  here  I  gave  some  proof  of  the  truth  of  the  wo^ 
man's  assertion,  that  I  "  had  not  the  sinse,"  for  why 
did  I  not  lie  down  upon  the  clean  straw  ?  I  spread  a 
pocket-handkerchief  upon  the  bolster,  and  managed  as 
well  as  I  could  to  forget  where  I  was,  and  what  might 
be  about  me. 

The  morning  dawned;  I  heard  a  great  pushing  at  a 
back-door,  which  led  from  my  room  to  the  yard, 

"  The  door  wide  open  flew," 

In  walked  a  majestic  pig,  weighing  three  hundred,  and 
moving  towards  my  bed,  elevated  his  nose,  and  gave 
me  a  hearty  salute.  I  said  "  Good  morning,  sir,"  and 
he  turned  to  the  oaten  straw  and  made  himself  busy, 
till  the  mistress  entered,  and  I  asked  her  if  she  would 
do  me  the  favor  to  lead  out  my  companion.  She 
heeded  it  not,  but  walked  away.  In  a  few  moments 
she  returned,  and  a  little  more  entreatingly  I  said, 
"  Madam,  will  you  be  so  good  as  to  take  out  this  pig  .'"' 
She  was  angry  at  my  repeated  solicitations,  but  finally 
took  away  the  domestic  with  her  into  the  kitchen,  with 
a  mutter,  "  what  harrum  .?"  and  violently  shut  the 
door.  vSeven  times  was  the  door  from  the  kitchen 
opened,  admitting  to  my  apartment  either  the  master 
or  mistress,  before  I  had  an  opportunity  of  making  my 
toilette. 

The  room  had  neither  window  nor  crack,  but  my 
sense  of  feeling  had  become  so  acute,  that  I  managed 
very  well  without  seeing,  and  made  my  ingress  to 
tjie  kitchen,  and  asked  for  my   bill.     Two-pence  for 


CHAP.x.]  CO.  OF  GALWAY.  197 

three  potatoes  and  a  night's  lodging.  I  paid  it  cheer- 
fully, which  left  me  seven-pence ;  and  bidding  good 
morning  to  the  mistress,  who  manifested  quite  a  shyness, 
I  hurried  out,  for  she  evidently  thought  me  "  wild,"  and 
wished  me  away. 

After  walking  four  miles  on  a  tolerable  road,  I 
bought  a  halfpenny  roll,  and  hurried  on  quite  happily 
with  sixpence  and  halfpenny,  which  would  buy  me 
another  roll  on  the  morrow  for  my  breakfast.  This 
was  not  the  most  sumptuous  fare,  but  it  was  so  sweet- 
ened with  the  pure  breath  of  heaven  that  was  fanning 
my  lungs,  the  sun  shone  so  pleasantly,  the  lark  sung 
so  sweetly,  and  the  poor  peasants  spoke  so  kindly,  that 
I  actually  felt  that  I  should  never  be  happier  this  side 
the  gates  of  the  heavenly  city.  I  could  not  think  of  a 
single  thing  needed  but  what  was  in  my  possession.  I 
was  not  hilngry,  I  was  not  naked,  I  did  not  wish  a 
carriage  ;  and  I  felt  that  all  earth,  air,  and  skies  were 
mine.  I  had  suffered  hardships  that  few  in  my  condi- 
tion could  have  endured ;  but  I  was  receiving  the 
legacy  that  was  left  me  eighteen  hundred  years  ago, 
that,  through  much  tribulation,  all  who  will  follow 
Christ  must  enter  the  kingdom.  I  was  happy,  I  knew 
in  whom  I  trusted,  and  heartily  did  I  say,  ^'  What  lack 
I  yet.?" 

I  reached  a  beautiful  little  place  called  Eyrecourt, 
toasted  my  piece  of  bread,  and  went  on  at  two  o'clock 
to  walk  five  miles  to  Banagher.  The  road  was  quite 
muddy,  and  my  feet  were  now  blistered.  I  was  obliged 
to  wear  coarse  shoes,  and  my  feet,  never  having  been 
accustomed  to  them,  were  tender.  Darkness  overtook 
me,  and  the  way  became  quite  difficult.  I  inquired  of 
all  I  met  the  distance  to  the  bridge,  and  the  distance 
to  the  town  ;  and  the  way  lengthened  in  proportion  as 
I  passed  on,  till  I  found  myself  upon  the  bridge  ;  and 
meeting  a  woman,  she  led  me  to  a  lodging-house,  which 
she  assured  me  was  as  "  claue  and  dacent  as  I  could 
find  in  a  day's  walk." 

This  lodging-house  in  Banagher  ha.^  associations 
which  will  live  in  grateful  remembranoe  while  memory 


198  CO.  OF  GALWAY.  [chap.x. 

lasts.  Did  tliey  say,  when  I  entered  wet  and  weary, 
(for  I  had  walked  for  hours  in  a  heavy  rain)  did  they 
say,  ''  Who  is  this  strange  woman,  at  this  late  hour 
asking  for  lodgings;  she  must  be  mad  .^"  but  "Come 
in,  come  in,  ye're  wet  and  wairy.  How  far  have  ye 
walked  in  the  stawrm  }  Come  into  the  kitchen  and  dry 
yer  clothes,  and  ye  must  be  a  stranger,  and  we'll  get 
ye  the  cup  of  tay  ;  ye  must  be  hungry."  All  this  was 
said  and  more,  before  I  had  told  them  who  I  was,  and 
what  brought  me  there.  When  this  was  known,  if 
possible  the  kindness  was  redoubled.  I  told  them  I 
had  but  sixpence-halfpenny  in  my  purse,  and  could 
only  get  a  night's  lodging  and  two  or  three  potatoes. 
* '  And  that  you  will  get ;  and  a  week's  lodgin'  in  welcome. 
Not  a  hap'orth  of  them  two  crippled  feet  shall  go  out 
of  my  house  till  they're  healed,"  answered  the  man. 
The  servant  was  called  to  fetch  water  to  bathe  my  feet, 
"  and  we'll  do  what  we  can  for  ye,  the  cratur  !"  And 
faithfully  did  they  perform  their  promise  ;  they  were 
kind  to  a  fault.  They  were  Catholics,  but  they  listened 
to  the  W^ord  of  Life  with  the  most  profound  attention, 
and  without  any  opposition.  They  told  their  neigh- 
bors they  fully  believed  I  was  inspired  of  God  to 
come  to  Ireland,  and  do  them  good.  What  was  this 
good  ?     Certainly  not  money,  and  this  they  well  knew. 

They  gathered  about  me  in  the  evening  in  crowds  ; 
and  when  I  had  read  two  hours,  such  a  breathless  silence 
was  in  the  room,  that  I  looked  about  to  ascertain  whe- 
ther all  who  were  behind  me  had  not  left  it,  when  I 
saw  the  place  was  filled  to  crowding,  sitting  upon  the 
floor ;  and  so  quietly  had  they  entered  that  I  knew  it 
not.  Till  one  o'clock  I  read,  a  peasant  woman,  sitting 
at  my  feet,  holding  a  candle  ;  and  when  I  said,  "you 
must  be  tired,"  "  And  that  I  ain't,  the  long  night 
wouldn't  tire  me,  to  be  listenin'  to  ye." 

"  Ain't  she  a  Protestant  ?  an  old  man  whispered. 
"  She's  a  Christian  sent  here  to  discoorse  us,  and  do 
ye  think  the  like  of  her  would  crass  the  ocean  to  see 
the  poor,  and  discoorse  'cm  as  she  does,  if  God  hadn't 
Bent   her .'"     The  old   man  seemed  satisfied,  and  the 


CHAP.  X.]  CO.  OF  GAL  WAY.  199 

point  was  settled  by  "Aw!  there's  no  use  in  talkin\ 
The  like  of  her  couldn't  be  found  in  all  Ireland."  This 
last  was  said  audibly,  while  I  was  turning  the  leaves 
of  my  book  for  a  new  chapter. 

Among  this  group  was  a  peculiarly  interesting  wo- 
man of  forty-five,  who  had  been  the  mother  of  twelve 
children.  Six  of  them,  she  said,  had  "  goiie  innocently 
to  heaven."  She  was  endowed  with  good  talents,  had 
been  well  bred,  and  was  quite  engaging  in  her  manner. 
But  the  desire  she  manifested  for  her  children,  their 
education,  and  their  eternal  good,  almost  exceeded 
belief.  She  raised  her  hands,  her  full  grey  eyes  glis- 
tening with  tears,  and  said,  "  Can  you,  will  you  tell 
me  how  I  can  get  to  your  country,  where  I  can  place 
my  children  under  a  good  and  virtuous  influence,  and 
where  they  will  be  taught  the  way  to  heaven  as  they 
should  be  ?  We  are  here  in  darkness,  darkness  !  Our 
clergy  are  good  for  nothing  ;  they  go  to  the  altar,  ajid 
say  mass,  but  they  preach  no  sermons.  They  give  no 
other  instructions,  and  who  is  any  better  ?  We  have 
schools,  where  they  learn  more  that  is^  bad  than  is 
good.  I  go  to  bed  at  night,  and  I  pray,  pray.  I  wake 
up,  and  do  the  same,  and  here  I  am.  Will  you  talk  to 
my  husband,  and  tell  him  what  privileges  you  have  in 
America.  I  can  do  nothing  with  him  ;  he  does  not  feel 
the  accountability  of  training  the  children,  as  I  do,  and 
could  I  persuade  him  to  go  from  this  dreadful  place,  1 
would  work  night  and  day,  not  for  myself,  but  for  my 
children."  I  heard  her  through,  and  said,  "  You  say 
you  are  all  in  darkness,  and  1  say  to  you,  Christ  and 
his  word  can  give  you  light.  Believe  me,  you  must  read 
the  Bible  ;  your  children  must  read  the  Bible  ;  or  they 
never  can  reach  those  high  attainments  which  you  so 
greatly  desire.  There  is  a  science  in  that  Book  of 
books  that  can  be  found  no  where  else,  and  this  science 
cannot  be  taught  except  by  the  Holy  Spirit."  "  Is  it 
so?"  she  eagerly  said  *' Have  you  a  Bible?"  I  in- 
quired. "No;  we  have  never  had  one."  The  mis- 
tress then  remarked,  "  There  are  but  two  Catholic 
families  in  all  Banagher  that  have  a  Bible."    "  Well  you 


200  CO.  OF  GALWAY.  [chap.x/ 

may  be  in  darkness,  if  you  have  not  the  chart  that  God 
has  given  to  guide  you  to  heaven."  The  company  now 
dispersed,  when  she  entreated  again.  *'  Do  say  what 
you  can  to  my  husband.  He  may  listen  to  you." 
"  That  woman,"  said  one,  when  she  had  gone,  "  has 
always  been  goin'  on  in  this  way.  Her  children,  she 
says,  are  goin'  wrong,  and  her  husband  cares  nothin' 
about  it." 

A  little  clean,  curly-headed  girl  called  the  next  day, 
the  youngest  of  this  doating,  anxious  mother,  and  led 
me  round  the  corner  to  show  me  her  home. 

"  Welcome,"  said  the  mother  ;  "  you  find  me  in  this 
dirty  cabin,  where  the  pig  and  the  shoemaker's  bench 
are  always  with  me.  I  live  in  wretchedness  ;  I  was 
not  so  rair'd.  But  my  husband  will  have  it  so  ;  he  is 
a  passionate  man ;  but  it  was  a  runaway  match  ;  and 
though  he  often  beats  me,  yet  I  am  fond  of  him  still. 
Forgive  me  for  making  so  free  with  a  stranger,  but 
these  dear,  dear  children  ;  my  heart  is  burning  up  ;  it 
is  scalded  for  them,  and  I  cannot  get  rid  of  it.  We 
are  not  poor,  though  we  live  here  in  this  humble  cabin 
with  pigs.  I  can  spin,  weave,  and  make  all  kinds  of 
cloth."  She  then  went  up  a  ladder,  and  brought  down 
two  nice  specimens  of  worsted  and  flannel  cloths, 
which  she  had  manufactured.  "  And  could  any  such 
work  as  this  do  any  good  in  America  for  my  children  .'' 
I  believe,"  she  added,  "  Almighty  God  has  put  this  in 
my  heart,  and  what  shall  I  do  at  the  day  of  judgment 
when  I  meet  my  children  :"  I  listened  to  this  woman 
with  the  full  conviction  that  the  Spirit  of  God  had 
enlightened  her,  and  would  yet  bring  her  further  out 
of  darkness  into  his  marvellous  light. 

I  went  to  church,  and  found  a  small  congregation  ; 
but  so  engrossed  was  my  mind  with  the  sermon  I  had 
heard  from  the  woman,  that  I  was  but  little  improved 
by  what  I  heard  there. 

The  evening  introduced  me  to  a  family,  where  I 
was  invited  by  the  father  to  see  a  daughter  of  seventeen 
years  of  age,  who  had  three  weeks  before  had  a  leg 
amputated.     She  was  sitting  upon  the  bed,  and  looked 


CHAP.  X.]  CO.  OP  GAL  WAY.  201 

to  me  uncommonly  interesting.  She  was  handsome, 
becomingly  dre-sed,  and  received  me  with  a  dignified 
cheerfulness  that  would  have  suited  maturer  age  and 
higher  education.  She  was  mistress  of  the  tidy  cabin  ; 
her  mother  was  dead,  and  she  was  the  eldest  of  a  pretty 
group  of  cleanly  dressed  children,  who  looked  to  her 
as  their  guide.  When  I  spoke  of  her  misfortunes,  she 
cheerfully  answered,  "  I  must  submit  to  what  the  Al- 
mighty puts  upon  me."  I  went  away,  and  was  told 
more  fully  the  cause  of  this  sad  misfortune,  of  which  no 
mention  was  made  by  the  family. 

The  father  had  a  mill  of  some  kind,  and  was  in  the 
habit  of  taking  his  dinner  in  it.  This  daughter  had 
prepared  it,  and  carried  it  to  the  mill ;  but  it  was  later 
than  the  usual  hour.  The  father  was  angry  at  the 
delay,  and  lifted  his  hand  to  strike  the  faithful  child. 
She,  to  avoid  the  blow,  stepped  aside  ;  her  dress  caught 
in  the  wheel,  and  her  leg  was  torn  nearly  off.  This 
family  discipline  needs  no  comment.  The  cheerful 
girl,  it  is  said,  has  never  been  heard  to  reproach  the 
father. 

When  I  returned  from  this  cabin,  a  new  era  opened. 
A  company  of  Connaughtmen,  in  rags  and  dirt,  re- 
turning from  their  potatoe  digging  in  the  county  of 
Kilkenny,  had  turned  in  hither  for  the  night.  They 
wanted  a  pot  of  potatoes  ;  they  wanted  them  cheap, 
and  they  wanted  them  in  "  good  speed."  All  this 
could  not  be  accomplished  without  some  bustle,  and 
the  good  man  offered  the  potatoes  for  two  pence  half- 
penny a  stone.  That,  they,  in  plain  language,  declared 
they  would  not  pay.  This  took  some  time  to  settle,  and 
ended  by  their  going  out  and  purchasing  the  article 
elsewhere.  This  adjusted,  then  came  the  lodging. 
They  must  be  up  at  two,  to  pursue  their  journey  ; 
they  must  lodge  in  one  room  ;  and  this  room  must  be 
the  one  occupied  by  me,  as  no  other  was  of  sufficient 
length  and  breadth.  I  cheerfully  relinquished  all 
claim,  as  I  was  but  a  guest,  and  the  floor  was  spread 
with  et  ceteras  for  the  lodgers  to  lie  down.  The  cla- 
mor and  clatter  which  commenced  and  continued  were 
9* 


202  CO.  OF  GALWAY.  [chap.  x. 

somewliat  peculiar  to  themselves.  I  had  quietly  put 
my  Polka  coat  upon  a  chair  in  the  kitchen  for  a  pillow, 
and  -with  a  second  chair  managed  to  make  myself  a 
bed ;  and  as  this  bed,  like  the  other,  was  gratis,  I  had 
no  right  to  complain.  The  peat  fire  was  dimly  burn- 
ing at  twelve  o'clock,  when  the  master  came  in,  and 
hearing  the  tumultuous  jabbering,  and  feeling  the 
house  to  be  shaking  to  the  centre,  he  ran  up  stairs, 
tellino-  them  to  be  off,  every  blackguard  of  'em,  as  it 
was  two  o'clock,  and  not  a  minute  more  should  they  stop 
in  his  house,  disgracin'  the  devil  himself.  They  declared 
they  had  paid  for  lodging  till  two  o'clock,  and  they  had 
not  slept  a  ha'porth.  He  drove  them  up,  and  they 
tumbled  down  stairs  to  the  kitchen.  I  had  placed 
myself  in  an  upright  position,  and  was  in  a  corner. 
They,  as  if  by  consent,  all  stopped  short  in  a  semicircle 
about  me,  and  in  perfect  silence  sm'veyed  me  atten- 
tively, and  my  condition  for  a  few  moments  was  not  an 
enviable  one. 

There  were  nine  of  these  nondescripts,  not  one  of 
them  with  a  whole  garment  or  a  clean  face,  standing  in 
array.  The  room  was  nearly  dark,  and  the  master  not 
in  it.  I  seriously  thought  of  my  sixpence-half-penny, 
but  before  having  time  to  offer  it,  the  good  man  of  the 
house  entered,  and  poured  them  out  of  the  house  at 
once.  They  had  the  kindness  to  give  the  man  a  timely 
caution  when  they  were  on  his  steps,  for  they  told  him 
seriously  that  the  stranger  in  his  house  was  a  man  in 
disguise,  and  that  he  had  come  to  do  some  great  mis- 
chief in  the  country,  and  they  had  not  a  hap'orth  of  a 
doubt  but  that  he  had  hapes  of  sovereigns.  He  added, 
"  Some  of  the  blackguards  would  not  hesitate  to  take 
your  life,  should  they  meet  you  alone." 

These  men  certainly  are  distinct  in  their  appearance 
from  the  provinces  of  Ulster,  Munster,  or  Lejnster. 
Yet  I  should  not  feel  authorised  to  say  that  they  are 
more  malicious  or  dangerous  than  their  neighbors. 
They  are  more  coarse  in  appearance  and  manners  ;  but 
they  do  not  lack  either  shrewdness  or  hospitality.  In 
justice  I  must  say,  I  have  experienced  more  real  kind- 


CHAP.  X.]  KING'S   COUNTY.  203 

ness  from  these  people,  tlian  from  many  of  more  refined 
education  and  fashionable  appendages. 

Reader,  if  you  are  prone  to  be  incredulous  ;  if  you 
are  but  a  nominal  Christian  ;  if  you  know  not  how  to 
believe  in  God  without  doubting  ;  if  you  cannot  trust 
him  with  your  body  as  well,  as  your  soul  ;  if  you  are  not 
willing  to  deny  yourself,  and  never  have  done  it,  and 
if  you  do  not  believe  in  "  particular  providences,"  in 
particular  exigencies,  you  may  as  well  lay  down  this 
book, — at  least  pass  over  a  few  succeeding  days,  for 
they  will  appear  like  fairy  tales,  and  the  tell^f^ii^tkem 
as  a  silly  if  not  wicked  impostor. 

Monday. — These  Banagher  friends  wished  me  "  God 
speed,"  without  taking  a  farthing,  and  told  me  their 
house  should  be  welcome  as  long  as  I  would  stay. 
Others  in  the  town  did  the  same ;  but  the  time  had 
come;  new  things  were  before  me,  and  these  new  things 
I  must  meet* 

In  a  few  hours  I  found  myself  in  Birr,  dining  with 
Mr.  Walsh,  and  he  insisted  that  I  should  go  that  even- 
ing to  visit  the  good  Mr.  S.  at  whose  castle  I  was  so 
kindly  entertained  by  his  housekeeper,  and  should  find 
him  there,  as  he  had  just  left  Birr,  with  a  lady  in  his 
carriage-  for  his  home.  "In  him,"  he  added,  "  yo 
will  see  the  Christian  in  a  new  and  striking  light. 
I  beg  you  ;  it  will  refresh  you  on  your  journey,  aS' 
you  will  have  it  to  say,  when  you  return  to  your  coun- 
try, that  in  Ireland  you  found  one  rich  man  who  lived 
wholly  to  God,  and  to  serve  his  fellow-creatures."  I 
went.  At  the  lodge  I  was  told  he  had  left  for  Rath- 
more,  where  he  had  another  castle,  and,  added  the 
good  woman,  "  It  is  but  five  miles.  The  road  is  good, 
you  are  quick  on  the  fut,  and  it  would  be  well  nigh 
worth  a  voyage  across  the  Atlantic,  to  hear  the  lady 
who  is  in  his  house  discoorse  on  the  subject  of  reli- 
gion." 

It  was  now  sun-set,   and  clouds  were   gathering.     I 

hesitated,  "  Go,  in  the  name  of  the  Lord,  and  he  will 

•  receive  you  kindly,"  setting  me   on  the  path,  she  bid 

pie  '^God  speed."     Darkness,  rain,  and  tempest  soon 


204  KING'S  COUNTY.  [chap.x. 

overtook  me ;  the  way  was  quite  dreary,  and  I  mucli 
feared  I  should  lose  my  path,  and  I  felt  that  the  errand 
was  quite  an  uncertain  one.  It  was  a  sad  night  ;  a 
small  parasol  was  a  miserable  defence  against  the  furi- 
ous wind  and  pelting  rain  ;  and  yet  I  felt  more  com- 
posed and  less  shrinking  than  I  do  now,  while  writing 
it.  I  had  not  the  least  anxiety.  I  neither  knew  nor 
cared  what  was  before  me.  I  saw  a  faint  light  in  a 
cabin-window,  some  perches  from  the  road,  and  felt 
my  way  to  it,  and  inquired  the  distance  to  the  castle. 
*' A  short  half  mile;  but  ye '11  be  destroyed  in  the 
staurm.  Ye  had  better  stop  a  bit."  Telling  them  I 
must  go  on,  they  stood  in  the  cabin-door  till  I  had 
reached  the  path,  and  as  well  as  I  could,  I  made  my 
way  forward. 

The  darkness  was  so  total,  that  a  beast  could  not  be 
distinguished  from  a  man  on  the  path,  and  in  a  few 
moments  I  heard  walking  behind  me.  I  turned  about, 
but  could  not  tell  what  it  was.  "  The  staurm  is  heavy 
and  the  night  dark  on  ye,  and  I'll  show  ye  to  the 
castle."  This  was  a  young  man  from  the  cabin  I  had 
just  left.  I  thanked  him  sincerely,  and  said,  ^'  It  is  a 
great  blessing  to  have  so  good  a  landlord  as  Mr.  S. 
one  who  gives  so  much  to  the  poor."  "A  divil  of  a 
"  ap'orth  will  he  give,  only  to  sieh  as  are  of  his  reli- 
gion.'' "  I  have  heard  he  often  puts  his  hand  into  his 
pocket,  and  hands  a  poor  man  a  pound  he  may  meet  on 
the  way."  "  And  I  hope  ye'U  meet  the  pounds  when 
ye  get  into  the  castle,  but  we'll  turn  into  a  cabin  here, 
to  a  man  who  keeps  the  gate,  and  he'll  go  with  us." 

\Ye  turned  into  this  cabin,  and  here  found  William 
and  Mary,  a  brother  and  sister  advanced  in  life,  who, 
as  Mary  said,  had  been  "  bred,  born,  and  raired  on  the 
ground,  and  know  the  father  and  mother  of  this  good 
msm  ;  and  he  will  like  to  discoorse  with  sich  a  nice 
body  as  ye  are,  a  fine  bidable  woman  ;  and  if  ye  love 
the  poor,  he'll  be  glad  to  see  ye  ;  and  ye  should  stop 
with  me  through  the  rain  to-night,  but  he'll  give  ye  the 
cup  of  tay  and  the  fine  bed  ;  and  ye  shall  have  my 
cloak,  and  I'll  go  with  ye  and  see  ye  snug  in."     While 


CHAP.  X.]  KING'S  COUNTY.  205 

^ ■    .-....■ .'«';     . ■ -r-T-- 

this  long  preface  was  goiri^  qnjtjfe'He  youn.Q;  wag  who  ac- 
companied me  gave  signs  of  wBelief,  which  Mary  re-  ■' 
buked  by,  ^'  And,  Pat,  it  ain't  you  that  have  sairved 
him,  as  we  have."  She  got  her  best  cloak,  and  fastened  'j, 
it  about  my  neck,  for  my  clothes  were  dripping MiTth  .-f 
wet,  and  we  all  went  out  for  the  castle  gate,  but  VVilliam,  S 
who  stopped  to  keep  the  cabin. 

The  bell  was  not  answered  till  the  ringing  had  been 
long  and  loud;  at  last  we  were  admitted  into  the  kitch- 
en. There  was  an  interesting  sight, — a  company  of 
fifty-two  were  sitting  down  to  a  supper  of  potatoes  and 
buttermilk,  mostly  orphans.  A  few  aged  people  were 
among  them.  They  had  just  arisen  from  prayer.  I 
saw,  through  the  door,  a  table  with  Bibles,  and  was  in- 
formed his  custom  was  to  pray  before  supper  with  the 
family. 

Mary  made  known  to  the  housemaid  what  a  bidable, 
nice  body  she  had  brought  to  the  master,  and  begg^ 
her  to  go  and  give  information.     The   girl   hesii^wdit      y. 
Mary  spoke  again ;  at  last  the  messenger  went  in,  w^^ 
a  fine  maiden  lady  of  fifty  majestically    approachdid 
"  What  is  your   name  .^"     Telling  her,  she   answerec 
^'  You  can't  see  Mr.  S."     "  Did  I  understand  you .?"  P 
asked.     "  Mr.  S.  can't  see  you."     This  was  the  good 
woman  who  was  "  worth  a  voyage  acrass  the  Atlantic  to 
listen  to  her  discoorse."     The  good  Mary  was  aroused, 
and  rising  up,  she  said  with  much  decision,  "It  seems 
that  Mr.  S.  is  not  at  home.     Come,  ye  shan't  stay  out 
in  the  staurm  ;  my  poor  cabin  can  give  ye  a  shelter  ;" 
and  taking  me  by  the  arm,  she  drew  me  towards   the 
door.     The  maiden  lady  whispered  in  her  ear   that  she 
must  have  a  cloak,  seeing  that  I  had  hers  on  my  shoul- 
ders.    Mary   supposed  that    she  was  to  be   presented 
with  some  cake   and  tay  for  the   stranger,    and  refused 
the  cloak  in  contempt. 

The  rain  was  pouring,  the  wind  was  blowing,  and   I 
was  wet  and  weary,  but  not   in  the   least  disheartened. 
Pat  had  no  sooner  reached  the  street,  than  a  whole  edi- 
*  tion  of  Irishman's  honor,  benevolence,  sense  of  proprie- 
ty, wit,  and  anathemas  on  the  lord  and  lady  of  the  castle 


?. 


206  [KING'S  COUNTY.  [chap.  x. 

was  commenced.  "  And  there's  the  puttin'  the  hand 
in  the  pocket,  and  takiu'  out  a  pound  for  the  poor  per- 
son, turnin'  a  dacent  body  into  the  black  stawrm  ;  and 
there  was  the  blackguard  of  the  near  hypocrite,  sittin' 
by  the  table,  where  he'd  *just  been  praichin',  and  sayin' 
his  prayers.  'Tis  true  he  feeds  the  hungry  childer,  you 
iee,  but  a  divil  of  a  bit  would  a  scrawl  on  'em  have,  if 
they  should  be  in  a  chapel  miudin'  their  own  prayers. 
And  do  you  mind  that  scrawl  of  a  puffed-up  bladder, 
that  come  swellin'  out  to  ye  ?  She'd  had  her  lesson  ; 
she  wasn't  bid  to  ask  ye  to  stop  from  the  stawrm,  and 
have  a  warm  sup,  and  rest  yer  weary  bones  in  a  good 
bed." 

Had  I  been  disposed  to  have  censured  the  lord  or 
lady  of  the  castle,  Pat's  graphic  description  of  their 
religion  and  conduct  left  nothing  unsaid,  and  I  was 
silent. 

We  entered  the  cabin  of  Mary  ;  the  brother  was 
lyi^g  down,  and  the  fire  was  dim  upon  the  heart.     Pat 

/gave  the  turf  a  little  stir.  "  And  see  here,  Will,  see 
what  Pve  brought  ye."  Will  started  from  his  bed. 
•  ^"  And  here's  the  wet  and  wairy  stranger.  Pve  brought 
#  her  back  to  ye  ;  the  good  saint  of  yer  master  wouldn't 
left  a  whole  bone  in  her  body."  "^Now  ye  don't  say, 
Pat,  he  was  goin'  to  bate  her."  "  Be  aisy,  Pat,"  said 
Mary,  "  the  divil  is  always  standin'  up  in  yer  throat  ; 
let  me  spake."  Turning  to  me,  she  said,  "  Now  ye 
will  forgive  Mr.  S.,  won't  ye  ?  he's  a  good  man." 

"  But  didn't  he  show  the  fondness  so  hard  for  the 
stranger,  that  the  heart  would  have  broke  in  her,  if  I 
hadn't  got  her  away."  "Now,"  said  Will,  ''  tell  me 
the  story." 

Mary  began,  and  but  for  Pat,  would  have  told  a 
plain  and  true  one,  but  he  was  so  constantly  interfer- 
ing, that  she  succeeded  but  badly,  and  turning  to  me 
she  said,  "  And  ye'r  of  his  religion,  ain't  ye  .^"  Telling 
her  I  did  not  belong  to  his  society,  "  Aw  !  and  why 
didn't  ye  tell  me.  I  shouldn't  a'  took  ye  there.  I 
should  know  he  wouldn't  bid  ye  welcome."  "  Aw  ! 
that's  a  purty  faith,"  said  Pat ;  "  that's  the  religion  he 


CHAP.  X.]  KING'S  COUNTY.  207 

carries  under  that  vagabond  of  a  frieze  coat  ;  that's  the 
lesson  be's  larn't  out  of  that  blessed  book  that  he's 
taichin'  the  scrawls  he's  feedin'  and  braikin'  the  heart 
about ;  he'd  better  take  up  his  owld  brogues,  and  carry 
his  two  heels  back  to  the  church  he  left,  than  to  be  de- 
nyin'  the  religion  he  was  raired  in,  and  be  walkin'  the 
earth  such  a  hypocrite."* 

Poor  Mary  was  completely  out-done,  and  could  only 
say  to  me,  "  But  ye  will  forgive  him,  won't  ye  r" 

Will  made  another  effort,  and  said,  "  Aw  !  Pat,  ye'r 
too  hard  on  him.  Wasn't  we  raired  on  this  ground,  and 
didn't  my  father  sarve  his  father  ?  And  he's  not  turn'd 
us  from  his  gate,  though  we  don't  go  to  his  church,  nor 
rehairse  his  prayers."  "  And  well  he  needn't  turn  ye 
out  *  he  knows  better  than  that.  Wasn't  ye'r  father  as 
good  a  dog  as  ever  watched  the  gate  of  a  castle,  and 
didn't  he  train  ye,  his  curs,  to  bark  for  the  son  as  well 
as  himself  for  the  father  ?  And  what  does  he  do  for  ye  ? 
The  cabin  and  the  potato  ye  have  ;  but  where's  the 
tay  and  the  bread  ?  Ye  haven't  a  bit  for  the  stran- 
ger." 

I  looked  upon  this  wag  of  nineteen,  and  said,  "  Is 
this  the  growth  of  Ireland's  bogs  and  ditches  ?  Are 
such,  the  plants  of  nature's  gardens,  left  unheeded  and 
trampled  under  foot,  crushed  in  the  budding  by  the 
careless  passenger  ?  Ah  !  little  do  the  proud,  titled, 
and  estated  ones  of  Erin  know  the  power  of  mind  which 
is  embodied  under  the  ragged  garments,  their  ill-paid 
labor  compels  the  toiling  ones  to  wear.  Little  do  they 
know  that  while  they  look  with  contempt,  or  make 
themselves  merry  at  the  expense  of  their  unlettered 
blunders,  that  these  ^  thing  of  nought'  are  scanning  their 
every  action,  are  reading  them  through,  and,  could  they 
wi'ite  a  book,  would  tell  them  true  tales  of  their  char- 
acter, which  they  never  themselves  understood,  and 
which  would  make  their  ears  tingle." 

Pat  said,  "  Good  night,  with  good  luck  to  ye,  stran- 
ger,   and   maybe    ye'll    have    the  pound  note  in  the 

♦  Mr.  S.  formerly  belonged  to  the  Episcopal  Church. 


208  KING'S  COUNTY.  [chap,  x 

mornin'."     "Aw!  that  Pat!"  said  Mary,  there's  no 
use  in  tawkin'." 

Mary  now  had  enough  to  do  to  make  the  stranger 
comfortable  ;  a  pile  of  dry  turf  was  added,  lighting  up 
a  white-washed  cabin,  and  white  scoured  stools,  table, 
and  cupboard,  which  amply  compensated  for  every  other 
inconvenience.  She  had  nothing  but  the  potato  and 
turnip,  and  "  Sure  ye  can't  eat  that."  '*  Put  on  the 
pot,"  said  Will,  "  it's  better  than  nothin'  to  her  cowld 
and  wet  stomach."  Now  could  I  bring  the  reader  into 
this  cabin,  and  spread  out  the  whole  as  it  was  pictured 
to  me,  I  would  say  I  am  paid  and  more  than  paid  for 
my  visit  to  Ireland. 

When  the  potatoes  and  turnips  were  boiled,  they 
were  mashed  together,  some  milk  and  salt  added, 
put  upon  a  glistening  plate,  a  clean  bright  cloth 
spread  upon  the  deal  table,  and  Mary  sat  down, 
groaning  at  the  "  strangeness  of  the  master,  and  the 
miserable  supper  of  the  bidable  woman,"  and  start-, 
ing  as  if  from  profound  meditation,  "  What  are  we, 
after  awl  ?  God  save  us  awl,  the  best  of  us,  we  poor 
miserable  bodies ;  we  think  we're  somethin'  when  we're 
nothin' ;  when  sick,  we  think  if  God  will  let  us  live, 
we'll  do  better  ;  he  gives  us  another  start,  and  we  go 
on  the  same  gait,  and  so  till  the  breath  grows  cowld  in 
the  body.  I  can  give  ye  a  clane  bed,  and  lay  ye  warm 
in  it." 

"  And  where  will  you  sleep,  Mary  ?  Do  not  let  me 
turn  you  from  your  bed."  "  And  that  ye  won't.  I'll 
find  the  comfortable  place  for  my  bones."  I  was  led  to 
the  bed-room,  and  in  this  floorless  cabin  what  did  I 
there  see  1  A  nice  bedstead,  a  clean  covering,  two  soft 
flannel  blankets,  and  linen  sheets,  white  and  glossy  with 
starch,  and  curtains  about  the  bed  as  white  as  bleach- 
ing could  make  them.  The  feathers  were  stirred  in  a 
narrow  compass,  to  make  the  bed  softer,  so  that  but 
one  could  have  room  in  it,  and  in  this  I  was  put  ;  then 
a  clean  flannel  was  heated  by  the  fire,  and  put  about 
my  shoulders,  another  about  my  feet,  "  to  take  the 
cowld  and  pain  out  of  my  wairy  bones." 


CHAP.  X.]  KING'S  COUNTY.  209 

When  Mary  had  finished  putting  the  covering  snuoly 
about  me,  she  placed  the  curtains  closely  around  the 
bed,  and  softly  went  to  the  kitchen  hearth.  The  door 
she  left  open,  and  I  could  see  what  passed  there.  She 
crept  to  a  stool,  and  kneeling  down,  she  prayed.  Yes, 
unlettered  as  she  was,  I  believe  she  prayed,  and  1  be- 
lieve God  heard  that  prayer.  She  arose,  and  leaning 
her  face  upon  her  hands,  sat,  gently  swinging  her  body, 
now  and  then  looking  towards  my  bed,  and  waited  till 
she  thought  me  to  be  asleep.  Then  putting  her  cloak 
about  her,  she  crept  stealthily  into  my  room,  and  peeped 
through  the  curtain.  Seeing  my  eyes  closed,  she  care- 
fully put  the  drapery  together,  and  crawled  behind 
me  upon  the  naked  bed  frame  ;  for  she  had  put 
the  bed  all  under  me ;  and  in  a  few  moments  this 
unsophisticated,  practical,  humble  Christian  was  asleep. 
She  did  not  intend  I  should  know  she  was  there,  and 
why  r  Lest  I  should  think  she  had  made  sacrifices  for 
me.  Was  this  doing  her  good  works  to  be  seen  of  men  ? 
Did  I  sleep  ?  Not  much.  Gratitude  to  the  kind  Mary, 
and  more  than  all,  gratitude  to  God,  that  he  had 
brought  me  to  see,  in  this  day's  and  night's  adventure, 
the  practical  import  of  the  parable  of  the  good  Samari- 
tan, kept  me  waking. 

When  the  day  dawned,  Mary  softly  stole  to  the  kitch- 
en, and  made  her  turf  fire  ;  swept  and  dusted  the  floor 
and  furniture,  and  while  her  potatoes  were  boiling  sat 
down  to  meditate,  with  her  face  leaning  on  her  hands. 
William  arose  and  whispered  to  Mary,  and  went  out 
softly,  shutting  the  door. 

I  went  out,  and  the  kind  Mary  feared  greatly  that  I 
had  not  slept,  and  that  my  breakfast  would  not  sairve 
me.  "  And  will  ye,"  she  said  emphatically,  "  will  ye, 
from  the  heart,  forgive  Mr.  S.  ?  He'll  be  sorry  when 
he  thinks  on't,  that  he  sent  a  lone  body  out  in  the 
stawrm."  Assuring  her  I  would  from  my  heart  forgive 
him  ;  "  and  will  ye  forget  it  .'^"  That  I  could  not  promise  ; 
the  lesson  was  too  good  a  one  to  be  forgotten  ;  ^'  but 
Mary,  I  will  make  the  best  possible  use  of  it."  The 
breakfast  was  soon  ready ;  a  handful  of  meal  put  into 


•210  KING'S  COUNTY.  [chap.  x. 

the  mashed  potatoes,  made  into  a  griddle  cake,  with  a 
*'  sup''  of  milk,  was  all  that  kind-hearted  Mary  could 
offer.  And  when  this  was  taken,  I  prepared  to  depart. 
"  How  can  I  let  ye  go,  and  not  have  the  master  hear  ye 
discoorse,  yer  so  knowledgeable  a  body  .^" 

I  was  fastening  my  cape  about  my  shoulders,  when 
she  approached,  took  hold  of  it  as  if  to  assist  me,  and 
looking  me  full  and  steadily  in  the  face,  said,  "  Mind, 
when  ye  go  to  heaven,  and  I  come  to  the  gate,  tell  ye'r 
Lord  to  let  Mary  Aigin  in  ;  '  for  when  the  rich  master 
turned  me  out  in  the  stawrm,  she  took  me  into  her  ca- 
bin, and  sheltered  me  from  the  tempest,  and  gev  me  a 
clane  bed  for  the  night.'  And  will  ye  forgive  the  mas- 
ter before  the  night  comes  on  ye  ?  Aw  !  ye  must  for- 
give, and  the  Lord  forgive  him  for  his  strangeness  to  the 
dacent  woman  that  had  been  rair'd  to  good  things." 
She  went  with  me,  and  set  me  on  my  way,  and  ardently 
did  I  desire  that  I  might  meet  poor  Mary,  where  the 
rich  and  the  poor  shall  be  rewarded  according  as  their 
work  shall  be  ;  and  when  she  turned  from  me,  I  prayed 
that  I  might  be  so  honored  as  to  have  a  seat  at  her  feet 
in  heaven.  For  I  could  have  no  doubt  but  that  spirit  of 
forgiveness,  and  that  meekness  which  she  manifested, 
must  have  emanated  from  the  sanctifying  influences  of 
the  Holy  Spirit. 

I  would  not  have  offered  any  reward,  had  it  been  in 
my  power  ;  for  I  had  before  learned  that  reward  offered, 
for  food  or  lodging;  given  to  a  stranger,  was  always  re- 
jected, on  the  sacred  principle  that  it  was  given  for 
God's  sake.  This  offering  of  Mary's  was  the  widow's 
mite  indeed.  "  It  was  all  her  living."  It  was  given 
with  sacrifice.  She  gave  up  her  choicest  comfort,  her 
nice,  her  comfortable  bed,  and  she  relinquished  this 
comfort  without  so  much  as  naming  it. 

The  rich  master  was  feeding  the  poor  without  any 
sacrifice  ;  he  needed  it  not,  and  beside  he  was  gratify- 
ing that  strong — that  blinding  propensity  so  inherent 
in  man,  of  winning  to  his  favorite  party  antagonist 
practices,  if  not  antagonist  principles,  bringing  them 
to  say,  '•'  You  was  right,  and  I  was  wrong."     Oh,  what 


cHAp.xi.J  KING'S  COUNTY.  2J1 

a  blessed  lesson  Lad  been  before  me  in  the  sbort  space 
of  eighteen  hours !  It  whispered  in  my  ear,  never  to 
take  a  man's  religion,  whether  in  a  tartan  or  a  frieze 
coat,  in  silver  slippers  or  in  brogues,  till  I  should  fol- 
low him  home. 

I  was  afterwards  told,  that  the  causes  of  my  rejection 
at  the  castle  were,  going  to  hear  hireling  Protestants 
preach,  and  Father  Mathew  give  the  pledge. 


CHAPTER  XL 

Novel  Interior  of  a  Cabia  — No  Lodgin?  Place— Dreary  walk  through  mud  and 
rain  to  Roscrea — what  to  do  for  a  bed  1 — a  profitable  Sixpence— ^Start  joyfully, 
with  fine  weather,  and  threepence  in  my  purse — A  Lift  from  a  "  Friend" — 
Money-letter  at  Urlingford — Reflections — Honesty  and  kindness  of  the  poor 
Irish  Peasantry — Parting  from  cordial  friends — Garrulous  fellow-traveller — 
Perilous  position— Return  to  Dublin,  and  kind  reception— Puzzling  Voyage  of 
Discovery. 

The  morning  was  cloudy,  and  rain  began  soon  to  fall. 
I  was  five  miles  from  Roscrea,  and  it  being  but  about 
ten  in  the  morning,  thought  best  to  go  into  a  shelter 
till  the  rain  might  subside.  A  little  cabin,  with  the 
tempting  flower-pot  standing  in  the  window,  saying, 
"  Here  are  order  and  content  within,"  induced  me  to 
call.  It  was  built  of  rough  stone,  and  was  not  white- 
washed ;  but  when  I  entered,  the  scene  was  changed. 
Such  a  room  in  cabin  or  cottage  never  had  met  my  eyes. 
The  room  was  small,  and  in  the  midst  of  it  stood  a  cen- 
tre-table of  the  highest  polish.  On  it  were  gilt-edged 
books,  shells,  flower-baskets,  specimens  of  Ireland's  dia- 
monds and  gems  ;  and  under  it  were  all  the  iron  and 
tin  utensils  used  for  cooking,  glistening  like  so  many 
mirrors.  There  was  no  floor  but  the  ground,  but  a 
nice  straw  mat  was  at  the  door,  a  hearth-rug  of  no 
mean  quality,  a  number  of  covered  stools  for  the  feet, 
a  nico  lookino;-o;lass  and  table,  and  a  bed  of  the  best 
appearance,  with  fringed  curtains  surrounding  it.  Two 
well-dressed   ladies  were  sitting  in   the  room,  with  a 


2T2  KING'S  COUNTY.  [chap.  xi. 

"beautiful  little  lap-dog  on  a  soft  mat  at  their  feet.  As 
I  first  entered,  I  thought  of  a  room  of  fairies,  and  hesi- 
tated, to  see  whether  the  beautiful  images  made  on 
my  mind  by  Mary's  neat  cabin  had  not  swelled  to  this 
fins  picture.  "  Walk  in,"  said  one  of  the  ladies,  "  and 
take  a  seat  from  the  rain." 

They  were  sisters ;  one  was  married  to  a  police 
officer,  and  told  me  she  had  not,  in  her  life,  been  six 
miles  from  that  cabin  where  she  was  sitting.  How 
and  where  she  acquired  this  taste,  and  where  she  had 
been  taught  such  a  finish  of  house-keeping,  so  distinct 
from  all  her  neighbors,  is  difficult  to  understand. 
They  sat  till  five  o'clock  without  eating,  though  they 
gave  me  a  biscuit,  and  they  sat  without  working.  The 
rain  continued,  but  the  young  ladies  told  me  that  they 
had  an  engagement  that  evening,  to  attend  a  christen- 
ing, and  must  be  out.  There  was  a  lodging-house 
near,  and  the  unmarried  sister  ofi"ered  to  Accompany 
me,  adding,  "The  woman  is  quite  odd,  and  may  tell 
you  she  can't  lodge  you  when  she  can."  We  went. 
A  positive  denial  was  the  result.  I  begged  her  to  give 
me  a  shelter  from  the  pitiless  storm,  giving  her  my 
usual  pass-word,  "  American  stranger,"  telling  her 
that  the  Irish  were  so  hospitable,  and  if  she  would 
visit  my  country  I  would  do  her  all  the  good  I  could. 
All  this  cringing  and  coaxing  was  unavailing.  *'  I 
have  told  ye  I  would'nt  lodge  ye,  and  that's  enough." 
There  was  an  inviting  bright  fire  upon  the  hearth.  I 
begged  her  to  let  me  lie  down  upon  the  chairs,  and 
stop  till  the  rain  should  cease,  and  I  would  go  out  at 
any  hour.  "  1  shall  not  keep  you,  and  that's  enough." 
I  next  went  to  an  English  family  ;  they  refused  because 
they  had  just  moved  in.  It  was  night,  and  very  dark, 
and  the  rain  and  storm  increased.  I  set  my  face 
towards  Roscrea,  and  was  struggling  with  wind  and 
rain,  when  I  saw  the  smoke  of  a  cabin  coming  out  at 
the  door,  which  a  woman  had  opened,  with  a  pot  of 
potatoes  she  was  carrying  in.  I  inquired  the  distance 
to  Roscrea.  '' You  arn't  a-goin' there  to-night ;  turn 
into  the  house  a  bit ;  a  smoky  shelter  is  better  than  a 


CHAP.  XI.]  CO.  OF  TIPPERARY.  213 

stawrm.  And  why  did  ye  not  stop  in  the  lodgin'-house 
back  ?"  Telling  her  I  was  refused  ;  "  and  did  she 
think  she  never  might  be  a  walkin',  and  want  a 
lodgin'  place  ?  Ah,  she's  a  blackguard  ;  she  stands 
there  sellin'  whiskey  from  morning  to  night,  to  the 
vagabonds  about  the  place." 

This  cabin  had  not  one  redeeming  quality.  Two 
pigs  lay  in  one  corner  upon  a  pile  of  straw ;  three 
dirty  children  were  on  the  hearth  :  a  miserable  bed, 
one  chair,  a  stool  or  two,  and  an  old  tottering  table, 
made  the  sum  total  of  this  domicile.  And  in  addition 
to  the  smoke  from  the  turf  on  the  hearth,  a  copious 
volume  was  poured  in  from  an  adjoining  room,  from 
over  a  partition  which  extended  mid- way  up.  What 
could  I  do  here  ?  Breathing  was  quite  difficult ;  and, 
in  or  out,  my  case  was  no  promising  one.  The  poor 
man  came  in  from  his  work,  and  sat  down  by  a  little 
low  table,  and  held  his  arms  around  the  edge,  while 
the  good  woman  poured  the  potatoes  upon  it.  He 
picked  out  a  large  one,  which  he  said  weighed  a  pound, 
and,  taking  oif  the  coat  with  his  nails,  presented  it  to 
me.  I  toasted  it  upon  the  coals,  ate  a  part  of  it,  and 
went  to  the  door ;  and  seeing  that  the  rain  had  not 
abated,  and  that  I  must  go,  committed  myself  to  him 
"  who  rides  upon  the  stormy  sky,"  and  went  out. 
*'  If  I  had  a  place,  you  should  not  go,"  the  poor  man 
said,  as  he  saw  me  going. 

My  lot  for  the  next  two  hours  was  not  a  pleasant 
one.  The  road  was  dreadfully  clayey  and  hilly.  I 
waded  through  darkness,  mud,  and  storm  ;  sometimes 
on  the  road,  sometimes  in  the  ditch  ;  and  but  once  met 
a  human  being,  whom  I  found  to  be  an  old  man,  who 
pitifully  exclaimed,  "  Ye'r  lost !  ye'r  destroyed !  and 
ye've  two  miles  under  ye'r  fut  to  the  town."  These 
two  miles  were  replete  with  realities — no  imagination 
here.  I  reached  Roscrea  about  ten,  and  everything  in 
town  was  still,  but  the  loud  pouring  of  the  rain.  I 
was  bewildered,  and  knew  not  a  single  street,  till  I 
saw  by  a  lamp  a  girl ;  and  inquiring  for  the  market, 
found  the  old  stopping  place  of  the  kind  woman  who 


214  CO.  OF  TIPPERARY.  [chap.  xi. 

had  invited  me  to  stay,  when  passing  through.  And 
the  first  salutation  when  she  saw  me  enter,  was,  "  I 
have  no  place  to  put  you  hjre — I  am  obliged  to  sleep 
on  the  boards  myself." 

My  clothes  were  dripping  with  wet ;  it  was  past 
ten  ;  and  the  rain  was  tremendous.  "  I  believe  that  I 
am  not  to  have  a  lodging  in  Ireland  to  night,"  was  my 
answer.  "  I  will  go  with  you  to  Mrs.  T's."  She  went, 
I  was  refused,  and  the  friend  left  me,  and  returned  to 
her  house.  Mrs.  T.  said  she  had  taken  two  more  than 
her  usual  number,  and  every  bed  was  filled. 

Now,  kind  friends,  if  you  have  followed  me  through 
rain  and  storm  to  Roscrea,  remember  the  sixpence 
given  to  the  poor  woman  when  I  passed  through  tho 
town,  and  mark  its  progress.  I  stood,  not  knowing 
what  to  do.  In  a  hotel  I  could  not  get  a  bed,  for 
want  of  money.  A  voice  from  a  dark  corner  called 
out,  "  Aint  ye  the  American  lady  that  went  through 
here  a  few  weeks  since  .^"  I  answered  that  I  was. 
"  I've  heard  of  you,  and  you  shall  have  a  bed  if  I  sit 
up.  You  kept  a  cabin  over  a  poor  woman's  head,  and 
God  won't  let  you  stay  all  night  in  the  stawrm."  The 
mistress  was  in  bed ;  this  woman  went  to  her,  told  her 
who  I  was,  and  extolled  my  excellencies  so  vividly,  that 
the  mistress  said,  "I  have  a  bed  in  the  garret  where 
the  servant  sleeps,  but  there  is  nothing  but  a  ladder 
that  leads  to  it.  I  could  give  her  clean  sheets,  and  a 
chafi'bed,  but  am  ashamed  to  offer  such  a  place."  I 
heard  it,  and  said,  "  A  ladder  is  no  objection  ;  give  me 
clean  sheets,  and  all  will  be  well."  The  mistress  arose, 
made  me  a  cup  of  coffee,  and  brought  bread  and  but- 
ter, and  put  me  in  a  situation  to  dry  my  clothes.  I  ate 
some  bread,  and  took  a  "  sup"  of  milk,  ascended  the 
ladder,  and  never  slept  sweeter.  "  Cast  thy  bread  upon 
the  waters  and  after  many  days  thou  shalt  find  it."  I 
had  found  my  bread  in  the  place  where  I  left  it,  and 
at  the  very  time  I  most  needed  it.  But  for  that  trifling 
sixpence,  1  should  probably  have  staid  under  some 
hedge  that  night,  or  been  walking  upon  the  street  on 
my  way  to  Urlingford. 


CHAP.  XI.]  CO.  OF  KILKENNY.  215 

At  five  in  the  morning  I  was  down  stairs,  called  for 
my  bill,  and  was  told  it  was  three-pence ;  nothing  for 
the  supper,  and  half  price  for  climbing  a  ladder.  I 
had  now  three  pence,  and  but  twenty- six  miles  before 
me.  I  went  forth,  the  clouds  were  swept  from  the 
sky,  the  stars  were  looking  out  ;  it  was  December,  and 
the  day  was  just  dawning  ;  the  grass  was  green,  made 
young  and  fresh  by  the  rain,  and  the  morning  bird 
had  began  his  song.  I  should  be  ungrateful  to  say 
that  I  was  not  happy.  I  was  more  than  happy,  I  was 
joyful,  and  commenced  singing.  I  was  standing  upon 
a  green  bank,  admiring  the  scenery,  when  the  thought 
occurred  to  take  out  my  purse,  look  at  my  three-pence, 
and  realize,  if  possible,  my  true  condition.  A  stranger 
in  a  foreign  land ;  a  female,  alone,  walking  with  but 
three  pence  in  my  possession.  I  did  so,  and  the  sight 
of  the  pennies,  rude  and  ungraceful  as  it  might  be, 
caused  me  to  laugh.  "  What  lack  I  yet  ?"  was  my 
prompt  reply,  and  then  was  I  happy  that  I  had  been 
compelled  to  test  my  sincerity  in  visiting  Ireland,  and 
my  firm  unwavering  belief  in  the  promises  and  care  of 
God.  I  had  but  just  returned  my  purse  to  the  bag, 
when  I  heard  a  carriage,  and  a  call,  "  Stop,  and  take 
a  ride  to  the  next  town.  Here  is  the  American  lady 
that  stopped  at  my  house."  This  was  the  Quaker  at 
whose  place  I  stopped  on  my  route  to  Galway.  This 
ride  carried  me  six  miles  from  Roscrea,  to  the  place 
where  I  had  stayed  at  the  shopkeeper's,  when  on  my 
way.  I  was  met  and  welcomed  at  the  car  by  a  son  of 
the  family,  with,  "  We're  glad  to  see  you  ;  Uncle  has 
a  letter  for  you  at  Urlingford,  with  money  in  it  from 
America ;  but  he  found  the  seal  broken  at  the  office, 
and  thought  it  might  be  unsafe  to  send  it  on  to 
Galway." 

A  breakfast  was  prepared.  I  passed  the  day  in 
making  repairs  in  garments  sadly  racked  by  storms 
and  trials  before  unknown,  and  the  next  morning  the 
boy  and  car  were  sent  to  carry  me  to  Urlingford.  My 
money  was  in  waiting,  my  friends  were  as  kind  as 
when  I  left,  and  I  sat  down  to  rest  and  reflect. 


216  CO.  OF  KILKENNY.  [chap.  xi. 

I  looked  back  upon  tlie  strange  journey  with  pecu- 
liar feelings.  Through  storm  and  sunshine,  by  night 
and  by  day,  without  harm  or  fear  of  harm,  had  I 
wandered.  I  looked  down  upon  the  shoes  which  a 
lady  presented  me  in  New  York,  and  could  say  with 
the  children  of  Israel,  "  My  shoes  waxed  not  old  on  my 
feet,"  though  they  let  in  the  water  ;  but  they  made  a 
decent  appearance  outside,  which  among  the  peasantry 
is  a  matter  of  great  moment.  Filthy  as  they  may  be 
called  in  Connaught,  yet  a  clean  collar  and  cuffs  would 
immediately  be  noticed,  and  mentioned  as  a  proof  that 
I  was  a  "  proper  person."  And  I  was  more  careful  to 
be  in  tidiness  when  among  the  poorest  peasantry,  than 
when  among  the  gentry  ;  the  latter  could  make  suita- 
ble allowances  for  all  defects,  and  the  former  thought 
it,  from  its  rarity,  an  attainment  of  great  merit. 

The  protecting  kindness  of  God  must  be  recorded 
in  particular,  as  I  never  had  been  in  the  habit  of  be- 
ing out  alone  after  nightfall  in  city  or  country,  and 
should  have  shrunk  from  it  as  improper,  if  not  dan- 
gerous. Here,  the  peace  of  mind,  the  unwavering 
trust  which  I  ever  felt  in  the  arm  that  sustained  me, 
kept  me  not  only  from  fear,  but  kept  me  joj^ful.  Yes, 
I  was  joyful,  though  a  stranger,  alone,  u"pon  desert 
mountains,  and  in  deep  glens,  without  money,  and 
often  without  food, — sometimes  sleeping  upon  naked 
chairs,  sometimes  upon  a  pile  of  straw,  and  sometimes 
not  at  all.  Yet  my  strength  never  failed ;  no  pain  of 
the  head  or  sickness  of  the  stomach,  no  cold  or  fever 
ever  assailed  me.  Yes,  I  can  say,  that  I  then  knew 
and  felt,  that  the  bank  of  heaven  was  full,  that  it 
could  never  fail,  that  the  banker  knew  every  deposit, 
and  knew  how  and  when  to  give  out  as  the  depositor 
needed ;  and  that  he  would  withhold  "  no  more  than 
was  meet,"  and  no  longer  than  was  necessary. 

*'Do  not,  I  beg  you,"  said  a  kind  clergyman,  who  is 
mentioned  in  this  journal,  "  ever  suffer  yourself  to  be 
out  after  dark  alone  in  Ireland.  It  is  presumptuous, 
it  is  dangerous."  This  was  his  last  injunction,  and 
twice  has  he  written  me  the  same  caution.     I  thanked 


CHAP.  XI.]  CO.  OF  KILKENNY.  217 

him  kindly,  but  could  not  understand  his  fears.  I  had 
hut  one  feeling,  and  that  was  trust ;  and  when  night 
unavoidably  overtook  me,  whether  upon  a  mountain  or 
in  a  city,  what  was  that  to  me  ?  I  loved  to  hear  a 
footstep  in  my  path,  for  I  knew  it  would  be  accompa- 
nied with  a  ^'  God  save  ye  kindly  ;"  and  that  saluta- 
tion has  ever  sounded  to  me,  when  alone,  like  the  voice 
of  Him  who  said,  "  My  peace  I  give  unto  you."  And 
often  have  I  answered  the  kind  peasant  by  saying, 
"  the  Lord  does  save  me  kindly."  These  were  hal- 
cyon days,  days  of  my  best  and  richest,  days  when  I 
turned  to  the  God  that  was  within  me,  and  laid  hold  of 
his  strength. 

Another  most  important  object  was  attained  by  my 
travelling  as  I  did.  The  Irish,  their  enemies  would 
have  it,  are  murderers ;  they  will  kill  a  person  for  a 
fev/  shillings.  I  was  days  and  weeks  in  the  wildest 
parts,  certainly  much  better  attired  than  they  were, 
often  with  a  small  locket  about  my  neck,  which  they 
supposed  was  a  watch.  They  knew  I  had  crossed  the 
Atlantic,  they  knew  I  was  alone,  and  they  did  not 
suppose,  till  I  told  them,  but  that  I  had  money  in 
abundance  ;  and  for  the  most  of  the  time  I  was  wholly 
in  their  power.  Why  did  they  not  use  this  power  ? 
Why,  on  some  lone  mountain,  three  and  five  miles  from 
any  cabin,  did  they  not  leave  my  bones  to  bleach  there  ? 
Or  why  did  not  some  dark  glen  cover  the  stranger  for 
ever  from  the  ken  of  man  !  I  learned,  too,  the  true  na- 
ture of  their  hospitality,  and  proved  to  a  demonstration 
that  it  was  not  feigned  ;  for  invariably  when  Itold  them 
I  could  not  reward  them  for  their  potatoe  or  lodgings, 
*'  And  didn't  ye  crass  the  ocean  to  see  the  poor  ?  Ye 
may  stay  as  long  as  ye  will." 

Facts  might  be  multiplied  of  unparalleled  kindness 
from  the  poor  ;  but  I  must  prepare  for  other  scenes. 
My  body  and  mind  were  both  strengthened  by  rest  and 
kindness  at  the  doctor's,  where  I  had  been  most  of  the 
time  since  my  return ;  and  to  Dublin  I  must  depart. 
And  so  urged  was  I  to  spend  the  Christmas  there,  that 
I  felt  obliged  to  say  I  should  not,  for  could  not  answer- 
10 


218  aUEEN'S  COUNTY.  [chap.  ir. 

ed  no  purpose.  "  If  you  will  leave  us,  the  blessing  of 
God  go  with  you,"  was  the  reply ;  and  man,  horse,  and 
car,  cake  and  cheese,  were  ready.  I  felt  that  morning 
that  the  air  of  Kilcooley  and  Kilkenny  was  wafting 
fresh  kindness,  that  the  birds  sang  it,  and  the  dogs 
barked  it ;  and  when  the  doctor,  his  wife  and  daughter, 
with  the  little  Yankee  Doodle,  accompanied  me  to  the 
gate,  I  begged  that  not  one  of  them  should  speak.  I 
looked  a  long  farewell.  A  wave  from  the  hand  of  the 
doctor,  a  tear  in  the  eye  of  his  companion,  were  the 
last  I  saw;  and  a  "  God  bless  you,"  from  the  little 
Yankee  was  the  last  I  heard.  I  hurried  the  driver  to 
take  me  away.  Why  should  I  linger  ?  This  was  not 
my  rest.  I  should  not  find  the  like  in  many  families  ; 
it  could  not  be  expected,  and  it  would  have  paralysed 
those  strenuous  efforts  which  must  be  made  in  accom- 
plishing what  was  before  me. 

Thirteen  miles  brought  me  to  the  pleasant  town  of 
Durrow,  where  I  stopped  for  the  night,  to  take  passage 
in  the  morning  for  Dublin.  Here  I  found  an  afflicted 
woman,  whose  husband  had  seven  years  before  gone  to 
New  York,  and  she  had  not  once  heard  from  him.  The 
sight  of  an  American  opened  anew  the  channels  of  grief, 
which  had  already  done  a  serious  work.  Kindness  was 
here  lavished  without  weight  or  measure,  and  when 
I  called  for  my  bill  in  the  morning,  "  We  cannot 
ask  you  anything,  for  you  have  had  nothing,"  alluding 
to  a  straw  bed  which  had  been  prepared  by  my  re- 
quest. I  paid  them  more  than  the  ordinary  price,  for 
they  had  done  more  than  is  customary  to  be  done  for 
lodgers. 

At  five,  while  the  waning  moon  and  twinkling  stars  were 
still  looking  out  upon  the  beautiful  landscape  beneath 
them,  I  was  upon  the  car,  with  a  talkative  young  coach- 
man, and  rode  five  miles,  passing  the  domains  of  the 
rich,  whose  high  walls  and  wide-spreading  lawns  made 
a  striking  contrast  with  the  thatched  hovels  and  muddy 
door-yards  of  the  wretched  poor  around  them.  Never 
had  1  ridden  in  Ireland  when  the  stillness,  the  scenery, 
and  the  hour  of  the  morning  all  so  happily  combined  to 


CHAP.  XI.]  aUEEN'S  COUNTY.  219 

make  the  heart  rejoice  as  now.  But  the  one  dreadful, 
ever-living  truth,  like  a  spectre,  haunts  the  traveller  at 
every  step ;  that  Ireland's  poor,  above  all  others,  are 
the  most  miserable,  the  most  forgotten,  and  the  most 
patient  of  all  beings.  I  heed  not  who  says  the  pictm-e 
is  too  highly  drawn.  Let  them  see  this  picture  as  I 
have  seen  it,  let  them  walk  it,  let  them  eat  it,  let  them 
sleep  it,  as  I  have  done.  Let  them  look  at  these  dis- 
gusting rags,  with  eye-s  not  dimmed  by  constant  use, 
and  hearts  not  seared  by  love  of  avarice.  Let  them 
look  at  Ireland  as  though  she  was  some  distant  isle, 
ruled  by  some  pagan  lord.  Would  they  not  say. 
Blot  her  from  the  earth,  sink  her  in  the  sea,  scatter  her 
to  the  winds,  or  make  her  more  comely  in  the  eyes  of 
men  ? 

I  could  not  but  say,  while  passing  these  forbidding 
cabins,  "  Sleep  on,  for  when  you  awake  it  must  only  be 
to  fresh  misery ;  it  must  only  be  to  idleness  or  unre- 
quited toil.  You  are  now  free  from  the  voice  of  the 
imperious  landlord  ;  you  do  not  now  see  the  squalid,  half 
naked  child  asking  for  the  potatoe ;  and  you  do  not  see 
the  light  of  that  sun,  which  only  shines  to  you  to  light 
up  your  degradation." 

We  now  reached  the  handsome  town  of  Abbeyleix, 
as  the  caravan  was  about  leaving  for  Dublin.  A  garru- 
lous old  Protestant  of  more  than  eighty,  who  said  he 
built  the  second  house  in  Abbeyleix,  48  years  before, 
the  daughter  and  granddaughter  of  the  old  gentleman, 
an  elderly  Catholic  man,  a  young  Irish  girl,  and  a  live 
turkey  made  up  the  passengers,  including  myself. 
When  I  had  answered  the  knowing  old  gentleman 
all  questions  about  America,  from  the  sitting  of  con- 
gress to  the  cultivation  of  pigs,  geese,  and  turkeys,  he 
told  me  in  turn  the  wonders  of  his  nation,  some  of 
which  were  quite  incredible,  if  not  ridiculous.  His 
daughter,  who  was  a  married  woman,  and  well  dressed, 
seemed  to  enjoy  the  tmceasing  volubility  of  her  father  ; 
and  when  I  remonstrated,  she  added,  "  O  !  he  must  be 
gratified,"  and  I  then  said  I  must  leave  the  caravan. 
He  was  well  dressed,  had  read  much,  and  apparently 


220  DUBLIN.  [chap.  xi. 

belonged  to  the  higher  class  of  society,  so  called.  What 
surely  am  I  to  meet  next  in  travelling  through  Ireland  ? 
All  sorts  of  characters,  in  all  sorts  of  condition,  were 
meeting  me  at  almost  every  turn. 

The  conversation  now  turned  upon  the  subject  of 
giving  the  Bible  to  the  common  people  ;  the  Catholic 
urging  that  when  they  could  not  read  it,  what  possible 
good  could  it  do  ?  And  that  it  was  so  little  valued  by 
them,  whenever  they  had  any  of  it,  they  used  it  for 
wrapping-paper,  and  often  for  lighting  their  pipes. 
The  debate  was  ended  by  passengers  crowding  in,  so 
that  the  ride  was  quite  uncomfortable.  I  had  previ- 
ously asked  the  privilege  of  riding  outside,  to  escape 
the  old  man,  but  was  denied,  because  the  coachman 
said  it  was  quite  unsafe.  The  door  now  opened,  and 
the  coachman  invited  me  to  take  a  seat  upon  the  top, 
promising  to  make  me  as  comfortable  as  possible.  I 
would  not  refuse,  because  I  had  asked  the  favor;  and 
though  the  eminence  looked  perilous,  it  must  be  tried. 
There  were  no  seats  upon  the  top,  and  I  was  fixed  upon 
the  edge,  my  feet  hanging  down,  with  a  heavy  coarse 
sack  flung  across  them  to  keep  them  warm,  which  I  was 
obliged  to  hold  in  one  hand,  and  with  the  other  to 
grasp  a  wire,  to  secure  me  from  falling  from  this  dizzy 
height.  This  position  I  found  so  uneasy,  I  was  obliged 
to  draw  my  feet  upon  the  top  of  the  caravan,  and  in 
this  cramped  condition  rode  fifteen  miles  to  Dublin. 
Here,  in  my  old  lodgings,  I  found  additional  welcome, 
for  it  was  followed  by  an  invitation  to  make  the  house 
my  home,  free  from  charges.  My  trunks  had  been 
well  minded,  and  the  kindness  here  seemed  but  the 
other  extremity  of  the  chain,  beginning  at  Doctor 
White's. 

I  visited  many  of  the  public  places  in  Dublin  ;  and 
in  my  perambulations  alone  about  the  city,  noticed 
quite  a  difl"erence  in  the  kindness  and  civility  of  the 
lower  class,  especially  about  the  *docks,  to  that  of  the 
same  class  in  the  interior.  An  inquiry  concerning  a 
street  would  always  be  answered  with  civility,  but  if 
any  misunderstanding   or    confusion  be  manifested,  a 


CHAP.  xi.J  DUBLIN.  221 

second  inquiry  is  often  followed  by  rudeness.  This  is 
generally  the  character  of  all  seaports,  in  every 
country. 

The  sixth  of  December,  at  eight  in  the  morning,  I 
took  a  piece  of  bread,  and  went  out  upon  the  circular 
road  that  surrounds  the  city.  Soon  finding  myself  in 
a  labyiinth,  where  water,  bridges,  mud,  and  cabmen 
were  in  a  confused  mass,  and  not  knowing  how  to  get 
out,  I  inquired  the  way.  A  wag  called  out,  "  Follow 
your  nose,  woman."  This  answer  would  not  have  been 
given  by  a  Connaughtman,  or  a  mountain  peasant ; 
but  knowing  he  was  an  Irishman,  I  received  it  in  good 
part,  and  answered  that  I  had  followed  it  till  it  had 
brought  me  into  the  ditch,  and  I  found  it  was  not  a 
good  guide,  and  I  now  wished  some  instruction  from 
more  experienced  ones.  With  one  consent,  every  man 
left  his  cab,  eager  to  direct  me  the  shortest  way,  each 
having  the  best  knowledge  ;  till  in  the  confusion  and 
the  kindness,  I  was  directed  all  points  of  the  compass 
but  the  right  one,  and  I  hardly  knew  whether  to  stand 
still,  move  forward,  or  go  back.  I  went  from  them, 
and  inquired  of  two  laboring  men,  who  told  me  I 
was  wrong;  a  third  insisted,  "  she  is  right ;"  following 
the  direction  of  the  two  first,  a  woman  of  whom  I  in- 
quired told  me  I  was  certainly  wrong,  and  led  me  on 
about  docks  and  walls,  till,  tired  with  the  chase,  I  told 
her  this  could  not  be  the  way.  In  anger  she  turned 
away,  declaring  she  would  say  no  more.  Another  met 
me,  said  I  had  been  led  astray,  pitied  me  much,  took 
me  about  a  circuitous  wall,  showed  me  the  ships  and 
houses  as  a  kind  of  land-marks,  adding,  "  You  must  go 
to  the  quay,  cross  the  river,  and  you  will  be  on  the 
circular  road."  By  this  time  I  was  so  crazed,  that  all 
roads  were  alike,  and  in  despair  took  the  track  around 
the  wall  again,  and  stumbled  upon  the  woman  who 
had  left  me  in  anger.  "  Here  comes  this  woman 
again,"  she  said  angrily  to  another.  "  Yes,"  I  an- 
swered, "here  she  "comes  again,  and  is  half  crazed." 
"  I  knew  that  afore."  By  this  time  I  was  quite  a 
penitent,  and  begged  her  to  tell  me  onco  more,  and  1 


22-2  DUBLIN.  [chap,  xh, 

would  follow  her  direction.  She  did  so.  It  was  a 
long  way,  but  it  led  me  to  the  ferry.  I  crossed,  and 
reached  the  spot  on  the  circular  road  from  which  I 
started  at  two  o'clock,  having  taken  the  whole  circuit, 
a  distance  of  twelve,  to  me,  weary  miles,  and  so  con- 
fused that  I  cannot  now  remember  one  perch  of  the 
way. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

start  for  another  Tour — Hoav  to  carry  a  heavy  Load  with  little  Trouble — A  i'or- 
midaljle  Animal  in  the  Caravan — Wicklow — Visit  to  a  Poor  Cabin.  Half-a-crown 
earned  in  Three  Months— Attentive  Auditory — Wretched  condition  of  a  Sick 
Woman — The  bright  Old  Man  of  the  IVIountain — Sabbath  Hymn,  and  the 
Company  collected  thereby — The  Scholar  with  his  Iliad — Visit  to  Wicklow 
Lighthouses— Wexford— Infant  School— A  tolerant  Catholic. 

Jan.  9,  1845. — A  pleasant  stay  of  four  weeks  in 
Dublin  made  a  journey  around  the  coast,  which  I  had 
resolved  to  take,  look  a  little  formidable,  as  it  was  in 
the  depth  of  winter  ;  but  the  work  was  before  me,  and 
difficulties  must  be  surmounted. 

I  had  become  sufficiently  acquainted  with  the  pea- 
santry of  Ireland,  to  know  how  to  gain  access  ;  and 
had  resolved  that  this  access  should  be  made  an  avenue 
if  possible  to  do  them  good.  They  were  not  in  general 
so  ignorant  nor  so  bigoted  as  I  had  supposed  ;  many  of 
the  children  had  access  to  some  kind  of  instruction  in 
most  parishes  I  visited.  I  found  that  money,  as  a 
reward  for  any  little  favor  (except  among  the  guides), 
was  refused,  and  I  resolved  to  give  them  books,  as 
well  as  to  read  among  them  as  I  had  previously  done. 
The  preface  of  this  work  informs  the  reader  how  these 
books  were  furnished.  h.  good  selection  of  tracts 
on  practical  piety,  school  books,  and  English  and  Irish 
Testaments,  made  up  the  catalogue. 

I  will  mention  the  manner  of  carrying  these  books, 


CHAP.  xii.J  CO.  OF  WICKLOW.  :2'23 

because  it  proved  to  me  so  convenient ;  and  if  any 
other  persons  should  ever  climb  the  mountains  and 
penetrate  the  glens  as  I  did,  they  may  find  it  expe- 
dient also.  I  carried  no  trunk,  but  a  basket ;  had  two 
pockets  in  which  the  tracts  were  put  ;  and  upon  a 
strong  cord  fastened  two  bags,  into  which  I  put  the 
Testaments,  and  appended  this  cord  about  me,  under  a 
Polka  coat.  When  on  a  coach  or  car,  these  did  not 
incommode  me  ;  and  when  I  stopped  at  a  town,  to 
visit  upon  the  adjacent  mountains,  I  took  from  a  bag 
what  was  required,  put  them  in  my  basket,  and  went 
out,  always  minding  to  carry  a  Testament  in  my  hand, 
which  every  peasant  walking  with  me  would  ask  me 
to  read. 

Thus  equipped,  like  Abraham,  I  "  went  out,  not 
knowing  whither  I  went."  The  family  where  I  stopped 
had  anticipated  my  wants,  and  furnished  me  with  such 
little  et  ceteras  as  to  a  traveller  are  very  grateful,  and 
the  two  mindful  sisters  accompanied  me  to  the  caravan, 
which  at  half  past  three  was  to  go  out  for  Wicklow. 
I  was  cheerful ;  I  was  happy  ;  till  one  of  the  ladies 
called  out,  "  Look  !  there  is  a  Connaughtman."  At 
the  entrance  into  the  caravan  sat  a  man  with  blue 
stockings  to  the  knee,  corduroys  above,  grey  coat,  and 
a  pipe  in  his  mouth.  This  to  me  was  the  "  avalanche" 
more  formidable  than  beds  of  straw,  potatoes  without 
salt,  nights  of  wanderings  on  bleak  mountains  in  rain 
and  storm.  Not  because  he  was  a  Connaughtman — 
not  because  he  was  poor — not  because  he  was  ignorant  ; 
but  because  I  hated  to  my  very  heart  the  stench  of 
tobacco,  and  the  wholesale,  never-dying  staring  which 
penetrated  every  fibre  of  my  frame,  and  set  every  nerve 
ajar.     Laugh./Vho  may,  I  could  not  help  it. 

As  I  approached  the  vehicle,  the  kind  man  moved, 
allowing  me  to  sit  near  the  door.  A  countryman  and 
countrywoman  were  in  the  caravan  ;  the  former  soon 
fell  a-snoring  ;  and  a  ride  of  twenty-two  miles  in  "  dark- 
ness visible"  brought  us  to  Wicklow.  The  man  awoke, 
and  off'ered  to  find  me  a  "  proper  lodgin'-house,"'  and 
in  my  hurry  to  escape  the  Connaughtman,   I  left  my 


'224:  CO.  OF  WICKLOW.  [chap.  xii. 

parasol,  and  lost  a  guide  book,  which  I  never  found. 
The  man  found  me  a  comfortable  lodging-place,  bade 
me  "  God  speed,"  and  departed. 

The  next  morning,  though  it  rained  and  the  wind 
was  violent,  I  walked  upon  the  sea-shore,  and  seeing 
a  miserable  hut,  made  my  way  to  it — a  dark,  cheerless 
abode.  A  man  and  sickly  old  wife  were  sitting  by  a 
pot  of  potatoes,  which  was  kept  boiling  by  means  of 
dry  fern,  which  the  man  was  constantly  applying  to 
keep  up  the  blaze.  Three  children  of  their  own,  and  a 
nurse  child,  were  in  the  room  ;  the  latter  hiding  herself 
because  she  was  nearly  naked.  "  She  is  ashamed, 
ma'am,"  said  an  elder  girl ;  "  she's  not  a  hap'orth  to 
cover  her,  and  we  can  do  nothing  but  give  her  the 
potatoe."  The  father  said  he  had  earned  but  half- 
a-crown  in  three  months,  had  nothing  to  do  from 
morning  to  night  but  sit,  as  I  saw  him.  His  wife  was 
evidently  in  a  decline,  and  when  I  spoke  to  her  of 
another  and  better  world,  where  the  inhabitants  should 
no  more  say,  "  I  am  sick,"  she  turned  aside  with  a  look 
of  disapprobation  ;  and  the  husband,  by  way  of  apology, 
told  the  daughters  to  bring  their  premium  Bibles  they 
had  got  in  Sabbath  school.  ^'  We  are  Protestants, 
ma'am,  and  the  children  go  to  Sunday  school  ;  but  it's 
many  a  day  since  the  wife  and  I  could  get  a  dacent 
suit  for  the  Sabbath."  "  Your  pastor  visits  you  .^"  I 
said.  "  Not  a  hap'orth  do  his  feet  ever  crass  the 
threshold  of  a  poor  man's  cabin  like  mine,  ma'am."  I 
could  only  pity,  and  left  them  as  hopeless  as  when  I 
found  them. 

In  the  evening,  the  woman  of  the  house  asked, 
"  Have  you  anything  nice  to  read,  ma'am  .^''  Telling 
her  I  had,  she  prepared  to  listen,  when  a  fish-woman 
entered  wet  with  rain,  and  seating  herself  by  the  fire, 
commenced  a  stream  of  talk,  sense  and  nonseuse,  Irish 
wit  and  Irish  vulgarity,  so  compounded  and  so  over- 
whelming, that  I  was  about  leaving  the  room,  when 
the  man  of  the  house  whispered,  "  She  has  lost  her 
mind,  ma'am.  Two  years  ago  she  had  two  sons,  fine 
young  men  as  ye'd  find  in  a  day's  walk,  and  they  were 


CHAP.  XII.]  ;C0.  OP  WICKLOW.  225 

drowned  in  the  say,  and  she  never  had  her  mind  since." 
I  took  my  books,  when  she  inquired,  "  Are  ye  going 
to  read,  ma'am  ?"  ''  If  you  wish,  I  will,  if  you  can  be 
quiet."  "Be  sure  I  will,"  and  seating  herself  at  my 
feet  upon  the  floor,  she  listened  with  the  deepest 
interest.  She  sat  for  more  than  two  hours,  nor  could 
she  be  persuaded  to  sit  anywhere  else  ;  and  when  I 
read  some  of  the  last  words  of  the  Saviour,  in  the  book 
of  John,  she  clasped  her  hands  with  wonder  and  joy, 
asking,  "  Was  that  for  poor  sinners  like  me  .^"  She 
seemed  clothed  and  in  her  right  mind,  and  I  could 
think  of  nothing  but  the  calm  that  followed  when  the 
Saviour  rebuked  the  wind  and  the  sea.  My  auditory 
had  increased  to  a  goodly  number,  and  when  I  finished, 
they  inquired,  "  And  could  ye  sell  a  few  of  these 
books  .?"  Telling  them  they  were  not  to  sell,  but  to 
be  given  ;  "  and  may  be  ye'd  give  us  a  little  one," 
meaning  the  tracts,  which  they  had  seen,  and  "  our 
children  shall  read  'em,  lady,"  said  one.  With  all  the 
simplicity  of  children,  they  talked  of  all  the  good  things 
they  had  heard  me  read.  "  And  it's  many  a  long  day 
since  we've  seen  the  likes  of  ye,  and  heard  the  nice 
things  ye  have  said  to  us."  Thanking,  blessing,  and 
bidding  me  God  speed,  they  went  out, 

Saturday  Morning — The  woman  had  the  Evangelists 
and  the  book  of  Acts,  of  the  Douay  translation,  reading 
them  most  attenti-^ly,  exclaiming,  "  God  be  merciful 
to  me,  a  sinner  !"  This  book  she  kept  under  her 
counter,  and  every  moment,  when  at  leisure,  she  was 
reading  ;  nor  was  this  a  transient  fit,  for  when  I  com- 
menced reading  a  chapter  in  John,  she  went  before 
me,  repeating  it  verbatim  as  she  had  learned  it  before, 
till  nearly  the  whole  chapter  was  rehearsed. 

A  ramble  in  the  afternoon  gave,  me  a  beautiful  pros- 
pect of  the  sea  and  town.  Meeting  a  peasant,  and 
inquiring  the  way,  "  And  ye 're  a  stranger,  and  have 
ye  seen  the  light-houses  a  mile  and  a  half  from  this  ^ 
They  will  be  well  worth  a  walk  to  them,"  he  said.  I 
determined  to  go,  but  turning  into  a  cabin,  a  sight  was 
there  presented   which  diverted   me   from    everything 

*r  10* 


226  CO.  OF  WICKLOW.  [chap.  xn. 

beside.  On  a  pile  of  straw,  placed  upon  a  bedstead  in 
the  corner,  lay  an  emaciated  woman  without  a  sheet  or 
bedspread  of  any  kind,  but  an  old  cloak  which  but 
partly  covered  her  ;  and  shivering  with  cold,  sitting  in 
the  ashes,  were  three  small  children ;  and  in  another 
corner,  a  pile  of  straw  upon  the  floor,  where  they  slept. 
The  woman  made  incoherent  answers  at  first,  but  soon 
was  collected,  and  apologized  for  her  seeming  rudeness, 
by  saying  she  was  ashamed  she  had  answered  a  lady 
so  ;  and  I  soon  saw  she  was  of  no  mean  extract.  She 
informed  me  her  husband  had  been  three  months  in 
the  hospital ;  that  her  bed  and  bed-clothes  had  been 
pawned  for  food ;  that  she  could  now  relish  nothing 
but  rice  and  bread,  and  these  she  could  not  procure. 
"The  doctor  used  to  be  kind,"  said  the  mother.  Tak- 
ing the  eldest  daughter,  T  went  in  pursuit  of  him  :  the 
doctor  had  forgotten  them,  and  could  say  no  more  than 
that  she  must  go  to  the  infirmary,  or  lie  as  she  was.  I 
went  to  my  lodgings  ;  the  woman  had  nothing  to  spare  ; 
directed  me  to  a  hospitable  Catholic  lady,  who  never 
refused.  She  was  ill  ;  could  not  be  seen.  I  went 
away  disheartened,  and  was  passing  among  the  crowd, 
when  the  servant  called  after  me,  "  Mrs.  D.  says  she 
will  see  you."  Hearing  that  I  was  an  American,  she 
hoped  to  hear  from  friends  there,  and  when  I  returned 
was  received  with  much  afi'ability ;  and  telling  the  sad 
tale  of  the  dying  woman,  she  pitied,  gave  a  few  pence, 
enjoining  me  not  to  mention  the  donor,  adding,  '^  You 
know  if  we  mention  our  alms-giving,  it  will  do  the 
giver  no  good  at  last."  A  little  covering  was  purchased 
at  a  pawnbroker's,  some  bread  and  rice  added,  and 
carried  to  the  wretched  cabin.  Stepping  in  a  few 
doors  from  this  abode,  and  begging  a  female  to  look  in, 
and  see  that  the  poor  woman  should  not  die  so  ne- 
glected, "  We  are  all  starved,  and  perishing  with  want, 
lady,"  was  the  reply,  "  and  cannot  mind  our  neigh- 
bors." I  went  to  my  lodgings,  and  passed  the  evening, 
reading  to  attentive  auditors  to  a  late  hour. 

Sabbath    morning. — The    sun    rose    pleasantly  —  a 
welcome  sight,  as  my  eyes  had  scarcely  seen  a  cloudless 

1 


CHAP.  XII.]  CO.  OF  WICKLOW.  S27 

sky  in  seven  months.  Taking  a  few  tracts,  I  went  out 
to  ascend  the  wild  mountains,  which  lay  back  from  the 
town,  and  whose  heathy  sides  I  was  told  were  sprinkled 
with  smoky  cabins.  Climbing  rocks,  crossing  hedges 
and  ditches,  I  at  last  saw  a  cabin  on  the  brow  of  a 
hill,  and  entered  its  humble  door.  An  old  man  was 
shaving ;  wiping  his  razor,  "  God  save  ye  kindly, 
lady  ;  and  sure  ye  must  have  gone  astray,  to  be  so  airly 
out  on  this  wild  mountain  ;  ye  must  be  a  stranger  ;  and 
have  ye  no  comrade  to  be  with  ye  .'^" 

His  tall  stooping  figure,  his  noble  bald  forehead, 
the  sprinkling  grey  locks  upon  the  back  and  sides  of 
his  head,  the  lustre  of  his  eye,  and  the  smoothness  of 
his  placid  face,  made  him  an  object  of  deep  interest  at 
first  sight  ;  but  when  he  told  me  he  had  breathed  the 
air  ofseventy-five  winters  on  these  mountains,  with- 
out a  "hap'orth  of  sickness,  or  pill  from  the  doctor," 
and  could  read  my  books  with  a  naked  eye,  I  was 
almost  incredulous.  "  If  ye  have  a  Douay  Testament, 
I  will  try  my  hand  at  one,  lady  ;  but  will  not  touch 
any  other."  Promising  to  return  with  one,  if  I  had 
any,  he  accompanied  me  a  good  distance  up  the  moun- 
tain, and  making  a  low  bow,  which  would  have  done 
honor  to  a  Parisian,  he  bade  a  good  morning,  adding, 
"  Ye  must  be  in  haste,  ma'am,  if  ye  would  be  in  time 
for  chapel." 

The  light-house  soon  met  my  eye,  standing  upon  a 
craggy  rock — the  old  one,  which  had  been  struck  by 
lightning,  all  shattered  and  useless,  waiting  at  a  re- 
spectful distance.  But  the  bold,  the  awful  grandeur 
of  this  place — how  can  I  describe  it,  that  the  reader 
may  understand  me  ?  The  gate  was  fast  closed  that  led 
to  the  neat  white  dwelling-houses  upon  the  brow  of  the 
rock,  and  making  a  circuitous  route,  I  descended  into  a 
glen,  then  up  a  wild  craggy  steep,  by  the  help  of  both 
feet  and  hands,  and  found  myself  upon  the  top  of  an 
awfully  grand  rock,  partly  covered  with  grass  and  firs, 
overlooking  the  then  placid  waves  that  lay  at  the  foot. 
The  sun  was  shining,  and,  though  January  12th,  birds 
were  singing,  and  green  spots  of  grass  were  here  and 


228  CO.  OF  WICKLOW.  [chap.  xii. 

there  scattered  among  the  ploughed  fields  at  a  distance. 
Far  at  my  back  were  extensive  cultivated  lands  upon 
the  mountains,  which,  by  their  natural  unevenness,  still 
retained  their  wildness  ;  and  at  my  right  was  stretched 
the  fine  strand  of  Wicklow.  Not  a  human  being  was 
near,  but  God  had  left  an  impress  there  which  could 
not  be  misunderstood.  I  sat  down,  and  looked  into 
the  abyss,  eddying,  deep,  and  dark,  in  a  niche  between 
two  rocks  at  my  left.  The  sea  was  spread  out  at  an 
interminable  distance  to  the  eye,  sparkling  in  the  sun- 
beam, and  bearing  a  solitary  sail  floating  at  ease. 
Taking  ofi"  my  bonnet,  I  paused  to  wonder  and  adore. 
It  was  the  resurrection  morning.  I  saw  no  sepulchre 
here  hewn  out  of  the  rock,  but  caves  were  scattered  on 
right  and  left,  where  ancient  chieftains  had  made  their 
abode.     I  commenced  singing  my  favorite  hymn, 

"  Majestic  sweetness  sits  enthroned  •," 

and  when  finished,  looked  about,  and  saw  the  shadows 
of  eight  boys  who  were  standing  upon  the  rock  behind 
me.  They  were  at  a  distance,  beyond  the  rock,  had 
heard  the  singing,  and  leaping  up  the  sides,  stood  in 
breathless  silence,  nor  did  one  of  them  stir  till  I  kindly 
saluted  them,  when  a  laughing  face  of  ten  years  said, 
*'  And  ye  sung  well,  and  didn't  we  hear  it .?"  The  peo- 
ple at  the  light-house  had  heard,  and  came  running 
upon  the  brow  of  the  rock,  on  the  other  hand  of  me, 
not  knowing  what  strange  sounds  could  be  floating  upon 
the  air  so  early. 

I  turned  and  looked  upon  the  group  of  wild  moun- 
tain boys,  buoyant  and  light-footed  as  the  hare  they 
were  pursuing,  as  they  stood,  undaunted  though  not 
impudent,  before  me  ;  and  said,  ''  What  was  Ireland 
once,  and  what  is  she  now  !"  In  spite  of  oppression, 
her  children,  free  as  the  mountain  air,  eat  their  potatoe, 
hunt  their  rabbit  and  deer,  leap  upon  the  rocks,  laugh 
and  sing,  dance  upon  the  green,  and  tell  you  tales  of 
ancient  Irish  days,  and  throw  out  their  light  sallies  of 
wit,  which  seems  like  an  inexhaustible  fountain,  bub- 
bling spontaneously  at  every  breath. 


CHAP.  XII.]  CO.  OF  WICKLOW.'  229 

'^  And  are  you  going  to  churcli  or  chapel,  my  boys  .^" 

"  All  Protestants,"  crie^  one.  "  That  we  aint,"  an- 
swered a  second ;  "  some  are  Romans,  and  some  Pro- 
testants." 

^'  We  are  after  hunting  a  hare,  ma'am." 

"  And  what  will  you  do  if  you  take  one  } — divide  it 
among  you .-" 

"  The  dogs  kills  it,  ma'am;  and  the  one  that  picks  it 
up  first  gits  it ;  but  if  two  gits  hold  at  once,  they  fights 
till  one  bates  the  other,  and  then  he  carries  it  off ;  so 
that's  the  way,  ma'am." 

"But,"  said  the  laughing  one,  "will  ye  take  me 
with  ye  to  America  .^" 

"  And  what  could  I  do  with  you  .^  I  am  not  going 
yet." 

"  O  take  me  along,  and  when  ye  eat,  give  me  some- 
thing— that's  all,  ma'am,  Pd  want ;  and  so  Pd  always 
be  about  ye  ;  d'ye  see,  ma'am  P' 

"  And  couldn't  ye  get  through  the  gate  t  Come,  and 
we'll  open  it  for  ye." 

They  did  so,  and  a  light-keeper's  wife,  young  and 
pleasant,  with  a  neat  shoe  and  open  thin  stocking,  with 
prayer-book  in  hand,  going  to  church,  met  me. 

"  You  have  not  seen  the  light-house  under  the  rock, 
ma'am,  which  is  the  greatest  curiosity  in  all  this  coun- 
try." Of  this  I  had  heard  nothing  before.  "  You  should 
return  and  see  it  when  the  lamps  are  lighted." 

It  was  now  church-time.  I  returned  to  town,  in 
company  with  the  young  woman  and  laughing  boy, 
who  kept  near  us  down  the  mountain,  a  distance  of 
two  miles ;  then  leaping  over  a  wall,  he  left  us  for 
chapel.  Returning  to  my  lodgings,  the  woman  had 
locked  the  door  of  my  room  and  gone  to  mass,  and  I 
was  compelled  to  wait  the  return  of  the  light-house 
keeper  in  the  kitchen,  till  both  church  and  mass  were 
ended.  Twilight  was  gathering,  and  the  young  stran- 
ger had  not  called  as  she  promised,  and  taking  a  few 
tracts  and  a  Douay  translation  for  the  old  man,  I 
ascended  the  mountain,  and  entering  the  cabin,  was 
cordially  welcomed.     The  gift  was  gratefully  received, 


230  CO.  OF  WICKLOW.  [chap.  xii. 

and  the  daugliter  of  the  old  man  accompanied  me  on, 
till  reaching  a  gate  we  met  a  young  man  well  dressed, 
with  Homer's  Iliad  in  his  hand,  who  politely  showed 
us  through  the  gate  to  the  rock,  where  in  the  morning 
I  had  lost  two  tortoise-shell  combs,  when  singing  to 
the  boys.  The  mountain  linguist  found  them,  and 
then  read  aloud  the  tract,  "  The  worth  of  a  dollar." 
He  was  a  good  reader,  and  when  I  offered  the  tract  as  a 
donation,  he  answered,  "  I  thank  you,  ma'am  ;  I  have 
a  good  lijorary  at  home,  and  you  had  better  present  it 
to  some  one  who  has  no  books."  I  was  now  forced  to 
resort  to  the  strange  fact,  that  has  often  been  related 
of  Ireland,  that  among  her  wildest  mountains  and 
glens  shepherd  boys  are  found  reading  and  talking 
Latin. 

Darkness  was  gathering,  and  showing  me  through 
the  gate,  my  learned  linguist  and  cabin-girl  bade  me  a 
good  night,  and  returned  to  their  smoky  abodes  in  the 
mountain  ;  and  a  short  walk  led  me  to  the  light-house, 
and  an  apology  from  the  young  mother,  that  she  was  a 
stranger  in  town,  and  could  not  find  my  lodgings,  cor- 
rected all  suspicions. 

''  Will  you  see  the  light-house  under  the  rock  .^"  I 
followed  the  wary  steps  of  my  courteous  pioneer  and 
her  two  little  ones,  till  she  led  me  to  the  top  of  the 
awful  precipice.  A  high  wall  was  on  the  right,  and 
stone  stairs  made  the  descent  safe,  and  the  wall  partly 
kept  from  the  view  the  awful  abyss  at  our  feet ;  when 
we  had  descended  thirty  or  more  steps,  the  wall  turned 
and  passed  before  us,  and  peeping  over,  the  top  of  the 
light-house  in  the  deep  below  met  our  eyes,  as  if  actu- 
ally coming  out  of  the  gulf  beneath,  and  casting  its 
glaring  light  upon  the  dark  waters  around.  A  kind  of 
horror  mixed  with  admiration  came  over  me  ;  the  first 
impression  being,  that  this  was  a  picture  of  the  abode  of 
the  lost ;  but  looking  up  over  the  top  of  the  rock,  I  saw 
the  crescent  moon  looking  down  with  such  complacency, 
that  I  knew  the  despairing  were  not  there.  I  gazed  in 
silence,  for  I  had  nothing  to  say. 

At  the   bottom  of  this  frightful  precipice,   si  tabu- 


CHAP.  XII.]  CO.  OF  WICKLOW.  iJ31 

lar  rock  juts  into  the  sea,  on  which  the  light-house 
stands.  Sufficiently  broad  is  this  rock  for  the  neat 
little  dwelling-house  of  the  keeper,  sheltered  from  the 
wild  winds,  which  are  often  blowing  furiously  over  the 
precipice  above.  When  I  had  wondered  and  wondered 
again,  I  was  introduced  into  the  cottage  of  the  keeper, 
who  kindly  showed  me  into  the  light-house,  and  ex- 
plained the  principle  on  which  it  is  built.  Government 
has  mercifully  provided  this  guide,  at  the  bottom  of 
this  dangerous  precipice.  While  the  one  from  the  top 
tells  the  mariner,  at  a  great  distance,  that  difficulties 
are  near,  the  one  at  the  bottom  kindly  shows  him  how 
to  avoid  them.  Four  paid  keepers  are  here,  two 
Catholics  and  two  Protestants,  with  salaries  that  give 
them  a  genteel  support,  accompanied  with  but  a  little 
labor.  Mr.  Page  took  me  a  winding  path  up  the 
rock,  avoiding  the  steps,  and  I  tarried  with  the  young 
guide,  meeting  again  the  laughing  boy,  who  had  fol- 
lowed me  in  the  morning ;  and  who  fixed  himself  be- 
hind my  chair,  pulling  my  dress  at  every  pause,  and 
whispering,  ''  Won't  ye  sing,  ma'am,  and  take  me 
along  with  ye  when  ye  go.'"  I  actually  sang  in  self- 
defence,  for  he  would  not  take  a  denial  ;  and  at  every 
close  he  laughed  outright  by  way  of  chorus.  "  Pat," 
said  the  young  housekeeper,  "keep  your  laughing  till 
the  lady  is  done."  Pat  heeded  not,  but  laughed  on  at 
every  pause,  turning  my  grave  psalmody  into  the  high- 
est merriment. 

The  scene  now  changed  ;  clouds  suddenly  covered  the 
heavens,  and  furious  winds  howled  dismally  through  the 
night.  "  You  see,"  said  the  keeper,  "  the  necessity  and 
mercy  of  these  lights.  Storms  like  these  are  often  howl- 
ing, and  they  come  so  suddenly,  that  vessels  would  be 
in  continual  danger  without  them." 

The  next  day  I  dined  on  kale  and  excellent  potatoes 
at  the  house  of  a  Roman  Catholic,  who  was  one  of  the 
four  keeping  the  light-houses,  and  father  to  the  merry 
Pat,  whom  they  had  excluded  from  my  presence, 
because  "he  is  bold,  ma'am  ;  he  is  a  bold  boy."  The 
lateness   of  the   hour  urged  my  departure  from  this 


232  CO.  OF  WfCKLOW.  [chap.  xii. 

hospitable  place,  and  peeping  into  the  barn  where  the 
banished  Pat  was  busied,  I  told  him  he  must  sober  his 
face,  for  I  was  going  to  leave  him.  And  the  question, 
^' Why  don't  you  take  me  along?  and  ye  aint  going 
without  me  .^"  made  me  hurry,  lest  he  should  be  in 
pursuit.  I  was  left  at  the  gate  by  the  husband  of  my 
young  Protestant  guide,  with  a  "  God  bless  ye,"  to 
combat  with  furious  winds  and  pelting  rain.  Hurrying 
to  the  cabin  of  the  graceful  old  man,  he  said,  "  And 
I'll  show  ye  to  the  gate,  for  the  nightll  be  heavy  on 
ye,  and  the  road  'ill  be  muddy  under  your  fut."  The 
road  was  indeed  muddy,  and  cracked  stones  had  been 
put  on  for  a  mile,  which  made  the  walking  almost 
intolerat3le.  It  was  a  long,  dreary,  bewildering  walk, 
and  a  "  Welcome,  welcome !"  at  the  door  of  my  lodg- 
ing, ^'ye'r  destroyed,"  was  a  gladsome  salute  to  my 
ears. 

The  town  of  Wicklow,  with  its  narrow  unpaved 
streets,  presented  few  enticements  to  a  stranger ;  but 
her  glens,  her  richly  cultivated  fields,  bordering  on 
the  sweet  Vale  of  Avoca  I  had  traversed  before,  were 
pleasant  mementoes;  and  now  the  wild  mountains,  with 
my  graceful  old  man,  light-houses,  and  the  laughing 
J)oy,  were  increasing  the  load  of  pleasant  and  painful 
remembrances,  which,  in  spite  of  all  stoicism,  did  force 
a  womanish  tear  from  my  eye. 

January  14th. — Arose  early  to  depart,  and  felt  a 
regret  at  leaving  so  kind  a  home  and  so  interesting  a 
woman.  In  search  of  knowledge  she  was  hungering 
and  thirsting,  at  times  insensible  to  anything  else  ; 
dropping  her  Douay  gospels  when  a  customer  entered, 
with  her  handkerchief  wrapped  about  it,  and  catching 
it  up  the  moment  her  shop  was  vacated.  I  left  a  small 
Bible  on  the  counter  one  morning,  to  go  out  and  spend 
the  day,  and  the  next  morning  1  heard  her  telling  the 
story  of  Joseph  to  a  servant  with  the  most  minute 
correctness.  "  Pray,"  said  she,  "  thtft  I  may  not  lose 
my  soul,"  as  she  grasped  my  hand  for  the  last  time. 
I  had  a  three  miles'  walk  before  I  could  reach  the 
coach  in  anticipation,  with  a  boy  to  carry  my  bag,  and 


CHAP.  XII.]  CO.  OF  WEXFORD.  233 

should  have  mentioned  that  the  hostess  would  take 
nothing  for  my  food,  and  hut  little  for  my  lodging.  I 
reached  the  stopping  place  of  the  coach  in  good  time 
to  give  a  temperance  lecture  to  a  company  of  travellers, 
who  were  taking  their  punch  ;  at  first  they  made  light 
of  it,  hut  soon  became  sobered  when  I  cited  them  to 
the  judgment,  where  we  must  all  appear.  And  here 
allow  me  to  say  to  Bible  readers,  that  never  in  all  my 
tour  did  I  fail  of  a  patient  hearing  among  the  most 
incorrigible  or  trifling,  whenever  I  solemnly  cited  them 
to  a  day  of  final  retribution.  They  seem  to  have  a 
most  solemn  awe  of  a  judgment  to  come,  and  the 
obligation  they  are  under  to  a  Saviour  for  his  death 
and  sufferings.  I  had  a  great  and  attentive  audience, 
with  a  multitude  of  '^  God  bless  and  speed  ye  on  your 
way ;  for  sure  ye're  a  wonderful  body,  and  the  like  of 
ye  never  was  seen."  A  good  seat  on  the  coach,  and  a 
pleasant  ride  through  Rathdrum,  Arklow,  Gorey,  and 
Enniscorthy  to  Wexford,  made  me  forget  I  was  a 
passing  stranger  in  a  strange  land.  At  Gorey,  an 
intelligent  Irishman  got  upon  the  coach  ;  he  was  full 
of  talk  and  pleasantness,  gave  me  much  information  of 
the  places  we  passed,  offered  to  find  me  a  good  lodging 
house,  and  show  me  the  town  of  Wexford  the  next 
day. 

It  was  dark  when  the  coachman  blew  his  horn  at 
the  town,  and  my  talkative  companion,  after  repeated 
efforts  to  procure  private  lodgings,  sent  me  with  the 
coachman  to  the  office,  with  the  promise  to  send  a  man 
and  find  a  lodging,  which  was  done  by  placing  me  in  a 
hotel.  This  was  unpleasant ;  for  a  solitary  female  feels 
herself  more  in  a  crowd,  and  cannot  mingle  with  the 
inmates  at  all,  to  get  or  give  information  ;  but  here  I 
was  kindly  treated,  had  a  parlor  and  bed-room  en- 
tirely to  myself,  a  kind  servant  to  do  all,  stayed  twenty- 
four  hours,  had  two  meals  of  potatoes,  milk,  and  salt, 
and  the  whole  for  a  shilling.  It  was  a  well  ordered 
house,  conducted  by  two  young  sisters,  orphans,  who 
were  left  in  charge  of  this  by  their  father  j  and  to  the 


234  CO.  OF  WEXFORD.  [chap.  xii. 

stranger  I  would  say,  call  at  tlie  Farmer's  Hotel  at 
Wexford,  for  comfort  and  respectability. 

In  the  afternoon  looked  into  a  poor  cabin.  The 
woman  received  me  kindly,  but  seemed  depressed  with 
poverty,  said  her  husband  had  had  no  work  for  weeks. 
She  had  two  children  in  an  infant  school,  one  seven  and 
the  other  five  ;  and  though  the  eldest  had  been  there 
years,  and  the  youngest  months,  yet  neither  of  the  two 
could  read.*  Curiosity  led  me  to  this  infant  school; 
found  them  eating  dinner,  with  each  a  huge  potatoe  in 
the  left  hand,  and  a  tin  cup  of  soup,  out  of  which  they 
were  supping  from  the  right.  This  was  an  additional 
proof  of  the  habit  I  had  often  noticed  in  the  Irish  in 
America,  that  they  always  prefer  eating  the  potatoe 
from  the  hand  as  bread,  to  using  a  knife  and  fork. 
This  was  a  Protestant  parochial  school ;  but  more 
Catholics  in  attendance  than  Protestants ;  and  the 
teacher  observed  that  the  Bible  was  daily  read  ;  '^  and  I 
find  the  children  of  the  Catholics  much  more  ready  in 
the  Scriptures  than  the  Protestants,  and  make  me 
much  less  trouble  in  getting  their  lessons.  I  cannot 
account  for  the  fact,  but  so  it  is."  The  circumstance 
is  easily  explained.  The  Scripture  which  is  expounded 
to  them  by  their  spiritual  guides,  is  impressed  as  being 
of  the  most  awful  importance,  and  its  consequences  of 
the  most  weighty  import  ;  and  when  they  get  access 
to  this  testimony  of  God,  they  are  prepared  to  treat  it 
as  such.  The  Protestant  child  relishes  it  no  better 
than  a  stale  piece  of  bread  and  butter,  which  he  is 
often  forced  to  eat  as  a  punishment,  when  his  stomach 
is  already  satiated.  An  intelligent  gentleman  from 
Dublin  remarked,  he  was  whipped  through  the  Bible 
by  a  Protestant  uncle  when  a  child,  and  had  hated  it 
ever  since. 

Returning  to  the  kind  woman,  she  went  in  pursuit 
of  lodgings,  and  inquiring  at  five,  the  sixth  took  me  iu 
for  sixpence  a  night.     The  woman  was  poor,  her  house 

*  Through  all  Ireland  I  had  noticed,  that  few  good  readers 
could  be  found,  either  among  children  or  adults  j  but  the  writing  in 
general  was  good. 


cHAi'.  xiii.J  CO.  OF  WEXFORD.  236 

was  tidy,  and  I  stopped  with  her,  found  she  managed 
discreetly  with  her  little  all,  and  was  extremely  anxious 
about  her  young  children,  that  they  might  be  well 
educated.  "  I  send  them,"  said  she,  "  to  a  Protestant 
school,  because  it  is  the  best  one.  God  be  praised,  my 
parents  never  larnt  me  to  read,  and  my  children  shall 
not  be  bred  in  such  ignorance."  Darkness  was  over 
her  mind,  but  it  was  darkness  that  was  felt.  I  read  to 
her  a  tract,  and  some  of  the  most  touching  passages  of 
Christ's  life,  which  filled  her  with  admiration  ;  thinking 
me  a  Catholic,  she  added,  "  You  know  none  can  be 
saved  out  of  our  church,  but  yet  I  have  lived  with  so 
many  good  Protestants  that  I  could  not  see  why  they 
are  not  as  good  Christians  as  we,  and  why  can  they 
not  be  saved  if  they  do  right  V  Telling  her  all  that 
fear  God  and  work  righteousness  will  be  saved,  and 
that  I  had  determined  to  take  Christ  for  example,  and 
his  word  for  a  guide,  and  obey  neither  priest  nor 
minister  no  further  than  they  obeyed  God,  "  Ye  are 
right,  ye  are  right,"  was  the  answer.  She  was  in  her 
own  way  truly  religious,  and  watchful  over  her  temper, 
and  a  better  pattern  than  many  who  are  much  in 
advance  in  a  knowledge  of  the  world  and  books.  Her 
husband  is  a  drunkard,  had  gone  to  Dublin  in  pursuit 
of  work,  spent  his  money,  and  was  torturing  her  with 
entreaties  for  more.  Father  Mathew  has  much  to  do 
yet  to  redeem  Ireland  from  the  curse  of  whiskey,  for 
in  high  life  it  retains  a  deadly  grasp. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

Public  Buildings  in  Wexford — Unexpected  Delay — American  Family — A  Rare 
Lady — Appreciation  of  Teachers— Doctors  differ — Delightful  Family — Over- 
lading  of  Vehicles — Waterford — Clonmel — Car  Travelling  and  Companions  on 
the  Road— Lodgings  in  Cork. 

Thursday^  January  16th. — Another  bright  morning 
dawned,  and  I  improved  it  by  walking  to  the  chapel,  a 


236  CO.  OF  WEXFORD.  [chap.  xiii. 

fine  one  with  a  friars'  convent  and  library  attached  to 
it.  At  a  little  distance  is  the  nunnery.  Over  the 
town  on  the  hill  stands  the  college,  a  splendid  estab- 
lishment ;  the  chapel  has  the  most  splendid  stained 
window  I  had  seen  in  all  Ireland,  and  while  admiring  it, 
a  devotee  arose  from  his  knees,  accosted  me  civilly,  and 
insisted  I  should  go  through  the  college,  and  then 
entered  warmly  into  the  merits  of  the  church.  Priests 
and  students  passed  us,  while,  as  each  drew  near,  the 
ardor  of  the  good  man  increased.  Both  logic  and  ar- 
gument would  here  have  been  useless,  and  when  the 
strength  of  feeling  had  subsided,  for  the  want  of  oppo- 
sition, he  pointed  me  to  the  grand  pile,  containing 
college,  chapel,  the  house  of  the  priests,  and  a  large 
house  for  the  sisters  of  mercy  which  stands  back  of  the 
college.  Seventy  students  are  here,  preparing  for  the 
priesthood  under  the  instruction  of  priests. 

A  holy  well  is  on  the  wayside  between  the  college 
and  town,  but  the  virtues  of  these  wells  are  somewhat 
on  the  wane  ;  the  priests  are  not  encouraging  a  resort  to 
them,  and  but  now  and  then  a  solitary  devotee  is  seen 
kneeling  beside  their  sacred  waters. 

From  the  college  I  went  to  the  jail,  and  found  my 
complaisant  coach  passenger  giving  orders  to  his  men, 
who  were  building  a  large  addition  to  the  prison.  Ho 
showed  me  the  cells  of  debtors  and  criminals,  which 
are  exceedingly  clean  and  well  ventilated  ;  the  pave- 
ments about  the  doors  and  yards  were  tastefully  laid 
out  in  flowers  made  of  small  stones,  and  at  one  door 
was  the  Irish  harp  and  "  Erin  go  bragh."  Finding  a 
school  here,  where  the  young  found  guilty  of  petty 
theft  are  instructed,  I  gave  each  of  them  tracts,  and 
some  portions  of  Scripture,  and  distributed  them 
throughout  the  cells.  The  prisoners  are  all  at  work 
or  at  school  when  not  sick  ;  a  novel  sight  to  see  shopi 
in  a  common  jail,  and  all  kinds  of  trade  going  on,  and 
a  regular  routine  of  education.  I  was  introduced  into 
a  room  called  "  Master  Debtors,"  such  as  pay  their  own 
board,  or  rather  such  as  find  themselves.  Two  ^omcn 
were  here  in  a  pleasant  room  ;   one,  the  widow  of  a 


CHAP.  XIII.]  CO.  OF  WEXFORD,  237 

Britisli  officer,  liad  accompanied  her  liusband  to  the 
West  Indies,  was  intelligent,  and  seemed  quite  asto- 
nished at  seeing  me,  supposing  that  I  had  come  as  an 
inmate.  My  laughing  guide  enjoyed  it  much,  claiming 
the  honor  of  bailiff.  The  bedsteads  were  all  of  iron, 
with  comfortable  coverings,  a  shower-bath,  and  a  good 
pump  of  water  near  by.  The  women  and  girls,  which 
were  put  in  for  petty  theft,  were  sewing  and  knitting 
in  a  pleasant  room.  Their  thieving  was  mostly  for 
taking  potatoes,  driven  by  hunger  to  desperation,  or 
some  trifling  article  to  exchange  for  food.  Yet  on  the 
whole  the  place  looked  little  like  a  house  of  punish- 
ment, and  doubtless  most  of  them  were  in  a  better  con- 
dition than  when  at  home. 

From  the  jail,  I  went  to  the  poorhouse  alone.  This 
stands  upon  a  hill  on  the  west  side  of  the  town,  in  a 
healthy  romantic  spot.  The  paved  walks,  with  pebbles 
put  in  like  those  at  the  jail,  first  attracted  attention. 
A  middle-aged  w^oman  at  the  entrance  begged  for  a 
"  ha'penny  to  buy  snuff."  Telling  her  if  she  had  food 
for  her  mouth,  her  nose  would  do  quite  well  without 
feeding,  and  that  I  should  do  very  wrong  to  give  it  to 
her  for  that  purpose,  she  went  away  amazed.  The 
matron  approaching,  I  inquired  if  I  could  be  shown 
the  rooms.  ''  Do  you  wish  to  be  taken  in  .^''  she  asked. 
"  Not  exactly  then,"  I  answered,  "  though  I  might 
wish  to  soon.  I  had  come  from  America  to  see  the 
country,  its  institutions,  manners,  and  customs."  She 
apologised,  and  took  me  into  the  hall,  where  the 
children  were  being  seated  at  dinner.  Three  pounds 
of  potatoes  and  a  pint  of  buttermilk  to  each,  *'  enough," 
I  said  to  the  keeper,  "  to  well  nigh  cram  them  to 
death."  The  commissioners  were  entering  to  inspect 
the  rooms.  I  was  admitted  among  them,  and  shown 
the  apartments.  Seventy  were  on  the  sick  list,  many 
with  eruptions  occasioned  by  cleansina'  the  skin,  and 
giving  clean  food  ;*  the  old  women  all  begging  for  a 

*  This  is  well  kno^vn.  to  physiologists,  that  cleansing  the  skin, 
and  using  coarse  bread,  will  throw  olf  all  the  impurities  of  the 
blood,  and  when  these  impurities  appear  upon  the  surface,  it  is  a 
favorable  symptom. 


238  CO.  OF  WEXFORD.  [chap.  xiti. 

"  ha'penny  to  buy  snuff,"  till  it  was  truly  disgusting. 
Tobacco  in  Ireland  is  one  of  its  greatest  curses  ;  it  is 
a  mania  infecting  all  classes,  from  the  lord  to  the 
beggar  ;  and  thousands  are  now  strolling  the  streets 
in  hunger,  when  they  might  be  made  comfortable  in  a 
poorhouse,  because  they  are  forbidden  to  use  this  nasty 
weed. 

I  offered  some  tracts  to  a  company  of  boys  who  were 
making  shoes,  when  an  overseer  interfered,  "  We  take 
no  tracts  here,  madam.  Your  books  may  be  good,  and 
your  tracts  good  ;  but  we  have  a  valuable  library  and 
good  schools.  Here,  sir,"  turning  to  the  teacher,  "  take 
this  lady  along,  and  show  her  the  books."  After  show- 
ing me  the  library,  specimens  of  books,  &c  ,  I  was  po- 
litely handed  out,  and  departed,  feeling  that  an  embar- 
go had  been  laid  on  my  inquiries  and  investigations, 
which  I  had  met  nowhere  else  in  Ireland. 

Friday. — A  tremendous  rain  kept  me  in,  writing  to 
American  friends,  and  on  Saturday  went  to  the  steam 
packet  office,  to  secure  a  passage  for  Waterford.  The 
packet  had  not  arrived  ;  I  felt  a  little  disappointed, 
and  hardly  knew  where  to  direct  my  steps.  My 
lodgings  were  gloomy,  and  my  work  in  Wexford  was 
done,  and  a  longer  stay  would  be  but  a  punishment 
and  loss  of  time.  "^  It  may  be  for  something  that  I  am 
detained,  which  will  cause  me  to  be  thankful,"  I 
doubtingly  said,  when  crossing  the  threshold  of  the 
infant  school  I  had  previously  visited.  "  You  had  better 
visit  the  parochial  school,"  said  the  teacher.  I  went 
because  I  had  nothing  else  to  do,  and  found  a  school  of 
boys  supported  by  the  Protestant  church.  The  rector 
and  curate  came  in  to  catechise  them  ;  the  rector  was 
thorough  in  his  investigations,  and  faithful  in  imbuing 
their  young  minds  in  the  holy  principles  of  the  Chris- 
tian belief,  as  inculcated  in  the  English  church.  Learn- 
ing that  I  was  an  American,  he  said,  "  You  should 
visit  a  family  of  Americans  here  ;  the  mother  has 
lately  come  from  there."  This  was  a  fresh  impetus, 
and  without  preface  or  apology,  I  turned  my  steps 
towards  the  "  Hermitage,"  the  place  where  lived  the 


CHAP.  XIII.]  CO.  OF  WEXFORD.  239 

American  lady.  The  mud  was  intolerable,  and  standing 
nearly  over  the  tops  of  my  boots  in  it,  I  demurred 
whether  to  proceed,  when  my  country  prevailed,  and  I 
made  an  onward  effort.  A  peasant  with  a  cart,  wife, 
child,  and  other  et  ceteras,  now  called  out,  "  May  be 
you'd  get  up  on  the  cart  a  bit,"  and  gladly  I  accepted, 
and  was  carried  to  a  better  road,  and  soon  found  the 
gate,  which  opened  upon  an  extended  lawn,  presenting 
a  wholesome  and  somewhat  tasty  house,  a  little,  as  I 
would  have  it,  in  American  style. 

My  sanguine  expectations  were  a  little  repulsed,  at 
the  distant  reception  with  which  my  warm  salute  was 
returned  by  the  widow  and  her  daughter.  They  could 
not  trust  their  eyes,  ears,  or  my  testimony,  that  a  jour- 
ney from  New  York  could  bring  a  solitary  female  to 
visit  Ireland.  A  meek,  unassuming  woman  entered 
the  parlor,  attired  so  unostentatiously,  that  I  supposed 
her  some  kind  of  necessary  appendage  to  the  family. 
*^  Did  you  come  to  see  the  poor  of  Ireland  ?  I  love  the 
name  oT  those  that  love  my  Master."  Supposing  she 
was  one  of  the  poor,  I  spoke  kindly,  and  she  gave  me 
her  hand  and  went  out.  "  Lady  Nevin,"  said  the 
widow,  when  she  was  out,  ^'  lives  in  the  Hermitage,  and 
is  a  pattern  of  goodness  to  us  all.  She  said  truly, 
when  she  told  you  she  loved  those  who  loved  her  Mas- 
ter, for  she  is  continually  visiting  the  poor,  administer- 
iTig  to  their  wants,  and  talking  to  them  of  the  Love  of 
Christ."  A  strange  lady  surely  !  such  an  one  I  had 
not  met  in  Ireland,  and  when  afterwards  I  visited  the 
Hermitage,  and  saw  her  meek,  unassuming  manner, 
her  simplicity  of  dress,  and  the  arrangement  of  her 
house,  and  heard  her  kind  words  of  the  poor  about  her, 
my  heart  said.  Would  that  all  the  titled  ones  of  Ireland 
had  been  with  Christ,  and  learned  of  Him  like  this 
disciple  !  Then  would  this  poverty-stricken  isle  sing  for 
joy  and  gladness. 

The  American  family  had  been  introduced  to  Ireland 
by  the  estated  gentleman,  whose  parentage  was  some- 
what pretending,  but  who,  by  a  natural  defect  of  the  lip, 
could  not  speak  clearry,  which  doubtless  had  served  to 


240  CO.  OF  WEXFORD.  [chap.  xiit. 

keep  in  subjection  that  pride  wliicb.  is  too  mucli  the  off- 
spring of  high  birth,  and  caused  his  good  sense,  clear 
judgment,  benevolence,  conscience,  and  firmness  to  hav^ 
full  scope,  and  made  him  the  Protestant  gentleman,  if 
not  the  Protestant  Christian.  His  wife  was  a  genuine 
New  Englander,  trained  in  the  land  of  "  steady  habits" 
(the  state  of  Connecticut),  and  could  not,  would  not 
like  Ireland.  Her  husband  had  visited  New  York,  and 
persuaded  her  to  leave  her  country  for  himself  and 
estate,  and  the  mother,  a  widow,  having  no  other  child, 
had  followed  her.  An  adopted  son,  on  whom  they 
placed  their  affections,  was  the  only  little  one  that 
adorned  their  hearth. 

I  was  detained  another  week  by  the  packet,  and 
visited  the  scattered  cabins  in  the  neighborhood,  and 
heard  an  unanimous  chorus  of  prayers  and  blessings 
bestowed  on  their  kind  benefactors,  particularly  the 
good  Lady  Nevin.  The  little  adopted  favorite  led  me 
one  morning  to  his  school ;  over  hedges  and  ditches, 
through  bog  and  field,  we  made  our  way,  to  shorten  the 
route,  and  reached  at  last  the  spot  where  the 

"  Village  Master  taught  his  little  school." 

He  was  a  Catholic,  and  under  a  thread-bare  coat,  he 
carried  a  warm  heart,  and  his  head  was  not  void  of 
good  common  sense,  clear  discernment,  and  close  think- 
ing. "  I  despise  the  principle,"  said  he,  "  of  censuring 
a  man  because  he  does  not  attend  the  same  church  or 
chapel  with  myself.  Let  me  see  him  love  his  country, 
and  do  by  his  neighbor  as  a  Christian,  let  me  see  him 
love  mercy  and  practise  justice,  and  it  is  enough." 

The  little  boy  of  my  friends  was  the  only  Protestant 
child  in  his  school,  and  when  I  invited  the  teacher  to 
call  upon  us,  his  answer  was  not  only  indicative  of 
high  and  noble  sentiment,  but  a  stinging  rebuke  on 
American  practices  in  this  country.  "  I  thank  you,  ma- 
dam, for  your  politeness,  but  I  never  put  it  in  the  power 
of  aristocracy  to  treat  me  with  contempt.  Should  I 
visit  your  friends,  my  dinner  would  be  laid  in  the 
kitchen   with    the   servants,   and    my    society   be    the 


CHAP.  x[ii.]  CO.  OF  WEXFORD.  241 

gardener  and  groom."  I  was  not  prepared  to  believe 
him,  and  on  my  return  mentioned  it  to  the  mistress, 
who  replied,  ^'  It  would  be  so  ;  my  husband  would  not 
allow  me  to  act  otherwise,  and  I  have  never  invited  him 
to  the  house  for  the  same  reasons.  I  am  much  pleased 
with  the  instruction  he  has  given  our  son,  and  should  be 
gratified  in  showing  him  respect,  but  the  laws  of  society 
in  which  we  move  forbid  it." 

I  begged  her,  as  an  American,  to  show  her  husband 
a  "  more  excellent  way,"  if  possible.  I  pointed  her  to 
the  country  she  so  much  loved,  where  teachers  are 
ranked  in  the  highest  grades  of  society,  and  to  whom 
the  child  is  ever  pointed  as  a  stimulus  {o  exertion, 
knowing  that  as  the  teacher  is  prized,  so  will  be  the 
instructions  he  gives,  for  it  is  an  established  law,  that 
the  stream  never  rises  above  the  fountain,  and  this  ac- 
counts in  part  why  the  common  people  of  Ireland  are 
so  content  without  education,  and  why  so  few  among 
them,  who  are  in  a  way  of  instruction,  arise  to  eminence. 
A  teacher  whose  salary  compels  him  to  wear  a  ragged 
coat,  is  a  sorry  profession  hung  out  for  the  child  to  ac- 
quire, and  a  daily  spectacle  of  indifference  if  not  dis- 
respect. A  twenty-pound  salary,  coarse  boots,  rusty 
hat,  and  a  potatoe  eaten  from  hand  in  the  kitchen  ! 

Again  went  to  town  to  secure  a  passage,  and  found 
three  intelligent  young  ladies,  who  were  sisters,  em- 
ployed in  acts  of  mercy  for  the  poor,  and  who  assured 
me  that  though  reduced  in  circumstances,  they  should 
never  be  lowered  in  society,  because  descended  from 
•='  high  blood."  "  I  acknowledged  no  high  blood  but  the 
blood  of  Christ,"  was  my  answer.  While  stopping 
with  these  sisters,  a  summons  arrived  from  no  mean 
quarter,  requesting  urgently  my  appearance  at  the 
house  of  a  high  Protestant  lady,  full  of  zeal  for  the 
church  and  compassion  for  the  poor.  I  went  with  a 
budget  of  sorrowfuls,  to  lay  down  at  her  feet,  gathered 
from  her  suffering  nation,  but  no  sooner  was  I  admitted, 
than  the  "  tout  ensemble"  of  the  lady  told  me  I  had 
brought  my  parcel  to  the  wrong  shop. 

"  Madam,  you  are  an  American,  J  hear,  and  I  have 
11 


343  CO.  OF  WEXFORD.  [chap.  xiii. 

sent  for  you  to  learn  from  your  own  lips  what  brought 
you  to  this  country." 

"  To  learn  the  true  condition  of  the  poor  Irish  at 
home,  and  ascertain  why  so  many  moneyless,  half-clad, 
illiterate  emigrants  are  daily  landed  on  our  shores." 

Inadvertently  using  the  word  oppression^  I  feared  a  re- 
treat would  be  my  only  security. 

"  Oppression  !  So  you  have  come  to  Ireland  to  stir 
the  muddy  waters,  have  you  ?" 

^'  To  look  at  them  as  they  are,  madam." 
"  Oppression  !  The  Irish  are  not  oppressed  but  by 
their  nasty  religion." 

"  But  does  their  religion  compel  them  to  work  for 
six  or  eight  pence  a  day,  and  eat  their  potatoes  on  the 
side  of  a  ditch  ?  Does  it  compel  them  to  reclaim 
a  bog,  for  which  tVy  are  paying  twice  the  value, 
without  the  encouragement  of  a  lease  for  their  improve- 
ments }  And  does  it  compel  them  to  pay  a  tenth  for 
the  support  of  a  religion  which  they  neither  believe  nor 
hear  }"" 

The  tempest  was  now  at  its  height,  and  I  only  suc- 
ceeded in  adding,  that  had  I  dropped  from  the  moon  upon 
this  island,  without  any  previous  knowledge,  whether 
men  or  angels  inhabited  it,  and  surveyed  these  beauti- 
ful domains  sprinkled  over  its  surface,  and  seen  the 
walking  rags  that  by  hedge  and  by  ditch,  in  bog  and  in 
field,  are  covering  the  length  and  breadth  of  the  land, 
I  must  have  known  that  these  fields  had  been  "  reaped 
down  for  naught." 

A  cessation  of  arms  for  a  moment  ensued  to  admit  a 
visitor,  who  by  her  low  courtly  bow  and  long  train 
told  us  she  had  dabbled  if  not  dashed  in  high  life. 
Seating  herself  in  a  corner,  she  listened  with  intense 
interest  while  the  good  lady  resumed  the  subject,  and 
remarked,  that  the  poor  in  Wexford  are  both  com- 
fortable and  happy.  The  stranger  arose,  and,  with 
another  low  bow,  said,  "  I  must  go,  madam  ;  the  poor 
in  Wexford  are  in  a  most  suffering  state  :  I  have  been 
this  morning  into  the  fishermen's  cabins  ;  the  fishery 


CHAP.  xiH.]  CO.  OF  WEXFORD.  243 

has  all  failed,  and  they  sit  desolate  and  idle,  without 
food  or  fuel." 

This  was  an  unexpected  indisputable  letting  down  of 
the  whole  argument,  and  at  this  loop-hole  I  made  my 
escape,  without  an  invitation  either  to  stop  longer  or 
call  again. 

Returning  at  night  through  mud  and  tempest,  I  found 
a  quite  different  commodity  in  the  person  of  a  Mrs. 

P ,  whose  two  young   daughters   are  the  "  polished 

stones,"  which  might  adorn  any  palace  where  grace  and 
virtue  reside. 

"  You  find  poor  Ireland,"  she  said,  "in  deep  afflic- 
tion ;  and  can  you  see  any  way  to  better  her  con- 
dition ."'  An  invitation  to  her  house  was  accepted, 
and  I  then  found  that  the  love  of  kindness  was  not 
only  upon  her  lips,  but  in  her  heart ;  her  house  and 
family  were  so  well  regulated,  that  I  could  see  no  cause 
for  improvement,  and  I  feared  my  stay  would  be  made 
quite  too  pleasant.  The  lawn  before  the  door,  with  its 
pile  of  wild  rocks — the  bird  that  tamely  sat  upon  the 
window-seat  each  morning  for  its  crumbs — the  sheep 
and  the  goat  that  licked  the  hand  of  the  sweet  girl 
that  caressed  them — the  pony  that  lapped  the  cheek, 
and  the  spaniel  that  lay  at  the  feet  of  these  children 
of  kindness,  added  to  the  cheerful  comfort  of  the  well- 
paid,  well-fed,  faithful  domestics,  made  this  house 
to  me  a  little  Bethel.  One  Sabbath  was  spent  in  it, 
and  it  was  one  of  profitable  quiet  rest  ;  the  domestics 
and  children  the  day  previous  had  anticipated  its 
approach,  and,  by  long  habit,  had  made  all  things 
ready.* 

The  mother,  daughters,  and  myself  rode  upon  a  car 
to  church,  through  the  deer-park  and  well  laid  out 
lands  of  a  lord,  who  is  not  an  absentee,  but  stays 
at  home,  making  his  tenants  comfortable.  A  sick 
curate  gave  us  a  sickly  sermon  ;  his  stinted  salary 
gave  no    spur  to  rhetorical  flourishes    or   well-turned 

*  I  have  mingled  in  families  of  all  classes,  h:  different  countries, 
and  have  never  found  one  of  good  order,  refined  manners,  and  strict 
moralitv.  that  did  not  regard  the  Sabbath. 


QM  CO.  OF  WATERFORD.  [chap.  xiii. 

periods,  and  Lis  sunken  elieek  and  husky  voice  warned 
of  hasty  dismission  to  another,  more  permanent  parish. 
On  our  way  home,  a  mile  distant  from  each  other,  we 
passed  two  fools,  who  lived  upon  the  street,  and  were 
better  clad  than  their  more  sensible  neighbors  of  the 
laboring  class,  strong  and  hearty,  good-natured,  and 
always  welcome  to  the  inhabitants,  for  their  innocent 
mirth  and  ready  wit,  which  would  have  made  them  well 
qualified  for  king's  fools. 

At  evening  I  must  say  adieu  to  this  pleasant  widow 
and  lovely  family,  and  return  to  town  to  my  old  lodg- 
ings. My  American  friend  arrived  with  a  huge  piece  of 
plum-cake,  of  my  own  baking  at  her  house,  and  being 
laden  with  kind  wishes,  a  boy,  cart,  and  ass,  were 
equipped  cap-a-pie  to  conduct  me  thither ;  but  not 
without  "  casting  many  a  longing  look  behind"  did  I 
leave  this  spot,  going  out  I  scarcely  knew  whither. 

The  next  day  was  spent  with  the  three  sisters,  who 
prepared  me  coarse  bread  and  cocoa  for  my  journey  on 
the  morrow,  which  saw  me  depart,  packed  upon  a  car 
with  a  sailor  on  one  side  and  a  quiet  josy  on  the  other, 
who  kept  his  terra  finna  without  any  variation,  occa- 
sionally saying,  "  I'm  afraid  ye're  crushed,  ma'am,"  and 
this  continued  for  thirty-three  miles  to  the  old  town  of 
Waterford.  The  unmerciful  loading  of  cars  and 
coaches  in  Ireland,  the  whipping  and  driving  to  "  keep 
up  to  time,"  has  no  parallel  in  any  country  I  have 
travelled.  A  lame  and  worn-down  horse  is  often 
loaded  with  six  and  seven  passengers,  and  all  necessary 
baggage,  often  with  a  galled  back,  and  then  beaten  till 
I  have,  when  expostulation  was  unavailing,  jumped  from 
a  car,  ready  to  resolve  I  never  would  ride  a  mile  upon 
any  vehicle  drawn  by  a  horse,  while  in  the  country.  It 
is  true,  merciful  men  have  enacted  merciful  laws  against 
cruelty  in  the  country,  and  these  laws  are  sometimes  en- 
forced ;  yet  still,  could  the  dumb  ass  "rebuke  the 
madness"  of  these  Irishmen  as  often  as  he  is  un- 
mercifully beaten,  Ireland  would  have  talking  asses 
added  to  her  incongruities,-  in  every  part  of  the  is- 
land. 


CHAP.  XIII.]  CO.  OF  TIPPERARY.  245 

My  stay  in  Waterford  was  short.  A  walk  through 
and  over  the  town  gave  me  a  view  of  its  buildings,  and 
an  entrance  into  the  cabins  a  sight  of  its  misery.  One 
poor  Englishwoman  told  me  she  was  a  Protestant,  but 
appeared  to  know  no  more  the  meaning  of  the  word,  or 
the  way  of  life  and  salvation,  than  did  the  seat  on  which 
she  was  sitting.  And  lamentable  as  it  is,  the  lower 
class  of  Protestants,  wherever  1  have  met  them  in  Ire- 
land, are  more  ignorant  of  their  religion  than  the  same 
class  among  the  Catholics.  Their  teachers  do  not  pay 
the  attention  to  the  poor  of  the  flock,  as  the  ever-watch- 
ful Catholics  do  ;  and  the  prayer-book,  mumbled  over 
at  church,  is  the  only  pilot  many  among  them  think  ne- 
cessary to  take  them  safely  into  port. 

I  saw  nothing  here  of  particular  note,  but  the  quay, 
which  is  convenient  and  handsome,  and  an  old  round 
tower  for  the  transient  confinement  of  unruly  persons, 
bearing  date  1003  marked  upon  its  dingy  front.  The 
house  where  I  lodged  could  boast  little  else  but  filth, 
and  the  people  who  resorted  to  it  vulgarity,  and  at 
three  in  the  afternoon  again  took  a  car  for  Clonmel. 
I  had  now  again  reached  the  depot  of  Bianconi's 
monopoly,  and  found  sound  and  lame  horses,  double 
and  single  cars,  with  aprons  "  tattered  and  torn,"  and 
dilapidated  seats,  defaced  by  long  friction,  still  adding 
to  his  purse,  while  his  coachmen,  thrown  upon  the 
public  with  tenpence  and  a  shilling  a  day,  if  not  ask- 
ing for  rent,  are  "  looking  daggers"  at  every  passenger 
who  ventures  to  leave  without  a  shilling  ;  yet  Bianconi 
is  a  "  noble  man."  '^  All  men  will  speak  well  of  thee, 
when  thou  doest  well  for  thyself." 

I  was  tremendously  crowded,  but  said  not  a  word, 
for  I  had  found  that  silence  in  all  troublesome  cases 
was  the  best  defence  and  only  remedy.  A  stopping 
place  packed  another  talkative,  would-be-learned  Irish- 
man at  my  right  ;  and  as  the  stars  looked  out  upon  us, 
he  turned  to  a  neighbor,  and  talked  scientifically  of  the 
planet  Jupiter,  and  his  moons,  ventured  a  little  upon 
the  ring  of  Saturn,  and  ended  with  an  ardent  wish  to 


346  CO.  OF  CORK.  [chap.  xiii. 

Bee  Lord  Rosse's  telescope.  So  sorry  was  I  when  the 
lecture  ended,  that  had  it  not  been  presuming  for  a  wo- 
man to  know  that  the  moon  is  not  a  pot  of  curds  and 
cream,  I  should  have  proposed  a  question  or  two,  to 
have  kept  alive  the  conversation. 

A  night  in  Clonmel  was  spent,  a  good  portion  of  it 
in  seeking  a  lodging-place,  my  kind  friend  O'Connolly 
accompanying  me,  and  at  last  a  tolerable  one  was  found 
for  sixpence,  and  early  on  the  morrow,  I  took  a  Bianco- 
ni  for  Cork.  A  long  ride  of  fifty  miles  in  a  snowy  win- 
try day,  on  an  open  car,  with  the  wind  blowing  full  in 
my  face,  and  my  seat  the  next  one  to  the  horses,  made 
me  more  than  willing  to  reach  the  city.  About  mid- 
day passengers  were  exchanged,  and  a  young  English- 
man, a  young  boarding-school  miss  from  Dublin,  and  a 
spruce  Dublinite,  fresh  from  the  army,  with  two  dogs, 
a  big  and  little  one,  were  seated  upon  the  car,  the  larg- 
er one,  dog-like,  sitting  upon  the  seat,  the  small  one 
upon  his  master's  lap.  We  had  proceeded  but  a  few 
miles,  when  a  huge  Goliath,  with  brandy-blotched  face 
and  beef-eating  front,  made  application  for  a  seat, 
and  the  senior  dog  was  transferred  to  a  box  over  my 
head.  The  restless  animal,  tied  to  the  box,  had  no 
certain  resting  place  but  on  my  shoulders  or  bonnet, 
and  at  every  jostle  of  the  car,  his  talons  took  a  fresh 
grip  of  the  foundation  beneath  him.  Twenty  miles 
in  this  deplorable  plight,  brought  us  at  nine  o'clock  to 
Cork. 

Inquiring  of  the  coachman  for  a  lodging-house,  he 
said  he  could  procure  a  clean  one,  and  sent  his  son  as 
a  guide,  who  led  me  through  a  dark  alley  into  a  house, 
whose  very  threshold  was  most  frightful,  and  the  room 
itself  more  so ;  and  shrinking  back,  and  saying,  ''  I 
think  I  will  not  stop,"  the  coachman  peremptorily  said, 
*'show  her  a  room."  Giving  a  hasty  peep  into  the 
bed-room,  he  added,  "  you  can  give  this  lady  a  clean 
bed,"  and  then  hurried  down  stairs,  leaving  me  stand- 
ing like  a  petrified  statue,  to  take  my  own  time  and 
my  own  way.  Looking  in,  if  my  astonished  eyes 
needed  anything  to  make  out  the  picture,  here  were 


CHAP.  xiii'.J  CO.  OF  CORK.  241 

the  materials.  But  what  is  the  use  of  conferring  with 
"  flesh  and  blood,"  when  there  is  no  alternative  ?  My 
fate  was  irrevocably  fixed  for  the  night,  and  demurring 
would  neither  change  the  place  nor  remove  the  pain, 
and  collecting  myself,  I  inquired  if  I  could  have  a  few 
potatoes.  They  were  boiled,  and  put  upon  a  dish  with 
a  cup  of  salt ;  and  disrobing  them  of  their  coat  with  my 
fingers,  my  supper  was  soon  made.  And  here,  by  way 
of  admonition  and  comfort,  allow  me  to  say  to  all  whom 
it  may  concern,  whenever  your  adventurous  lot,  like 
mine,  may  be  cast  in  the  mountains  of  Ireland,  where 
bread  is  scarce,  and  flesh  none,  the  inside  of  a  potatoe  is 
the  safest  and  surest  defence  against  not  only  the  in- 
roads of  hunger,  but  other  doubtful  etceteras,  which 
(begging  pardon)  a  filthy  cabin  and  exceptionable  cabin- 
keeper  might  present. 

The  family  consisted  of  husband  and  wife,  grandmo- 
ther, and  five  intelligent,  interesting  children,  which 
would  have  adorned  a  better  nursery.  They  gathered 
about  me,  to  see  and  read  the  books  ;  and  the  eldest,  a 
lad  of  fourteen,  took  a  small  Testament,  and  read  to 
the  parents  the  first  four  chapters  of  Matthew,  for  they 
could  not  read.  The  dread  of  an  ingress  to  the  bed- 
room kept  me  conjuring  new  schemes  to  divert  the  chil- 
dren till  a  late  hour,  but  it  must  be  encountered.  The 
coachman  was  obeyed,  for  I  had  clean  blankets  to  my 
bed,  though  some  bushels  of  potatoes  were  under  the 
foot  of  it.  By  pulling  away  a  dirty  cloth,  which  served 
for  a  pane  of  glass,  and  removing  an  unmentionable  or 
two,  in  a  half  hour  my  olfactory  nerves  had  no  cause 
for  complaint,  and  never  had  I  slept  sweeter  in  cabin 
or  hotel. 

In  the  morning,  eating  a  couple  of  potatoes,  through 
snow  and  sleet,  1  made  my  way  to  the  house  of  a  Bap- 
tist minister,  where  I  passed  the  day  ;  and  here,  though 
a  table  was  spread  with  knives,  forks,  and  plates,  pota- 
toes and  salt  was  my  hap  alone,  for  bread  at  a  dinner 
is  not  the  accompaniment  where  potatoes  and  flesh 
are  provided.  The  father  returned  at  evening,  and 
accompanied    me    to   his    vestry,  to  attend  a  prayer- 


248  CO.  OF  CORK.  [chap.  xiv. 

meeting,  and  recommended  a  lodging-place,  wliicli  was 
a  happy  contrast  to  the  last  night's  encounter,  and 
where  I  found  the  missionaries  Jassom,  Howe,  and 
the  widow  of  the  unfortunate  man  that  was  accidentally 
shot  at  Otaheite.  Mrs.  Fisher,  the  lady  who  kept  the 
house,  entered  most  deeply  into  my  undertakings,  and 
ceased  not  to  do  what  she  could,  during  my  pleasant 
stay  in  Cork.  Her  feelings  for  the  stranger  did  not  die 
in  empty  words  ;  she  acted. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

Reception  from  Father  Mathew— The  Aged  Nun— Temperance  Tea  Party- 
Danger  of  becoming  a  Public  Character— One  Source  of  the  Reverence  paid  to 
the  Priest — Ursuline  Conxent  and  its  Elegancies — Sail  to  Cotc— Beautiful 
Bay — Search  for  Dr.  Power— The  Begging  Whine — Trip  to  Blarney — Racy 
Old  Priest — "  The  Blackguard  Salt  Herring'' — Wonders  of  Blarney — Dr. 
Barter's  Hydropathic  Establishment — Our  Jolly  Priest  is  no  Tetotaller — 
Walk  to  Cove— Pleasant  Little  Maidens— Delightful  time  passed  in  Dr.  Pow- 
er's Family. 

Saturday.,  Feb.  1st. — Called  at  Father  Mathew's. 
His  house  is  quite  plain ;  the  hall-door  is  fastened 
open  from  six  in  the  morning,  till  the  same  time  in  the 
evening,  saying  to  the  citizen  and  stranger,  "  ye  are 
welcome."  The  carpet  of  the  hall  is  loose  straw,  and 
a  woman  sits  at  the  entrance  to  receive  and  point  the 
visitor  to  the  room  on  the  right,  where  the  "rich  and 
poor  meet  together,"  to  take  the  pledge,  or  spend  a 
leisure  half  hour,  to  watch  the  movements,  and  listen 
to  the  salutary  cautions  and  words  of  kindness  from 
the  lips  of  this  devoted  man.  My  letter  of  introduc- 
tion had  been  given  him  some  months  before,  in  a 
crowd,  when  he  had  only  opportunity  to  say,  "  I  will 
see  you  in  Cork." 

"  Why  did  you  not  come  to  me  when  you  first  came 
to  the  country  ;  you  knew  I  would  have  taken  care  of 
you  .^"  was  the  greeting  he  gave,  when  I  entered. 

The  room  is  entirely  devoid  of  ornaments,   except 


CO.  OF  CORK.  249 


the  papers  pasted  upon  the  wall,  as  cautions  to  the  in- 
temperate. Benches  are  arranged  about  the  room  for 
those  in  waiting,  on  one  of  which,  in  an  obscure  cor- 
ner, I  took  my  seat,  and  saw  the  lame  and  deformed, 
the  clean  and  the  filthy,  the  well-clad  and  the  tattered, 
kneel  and  take  the  pledge,  and  enter  their  names  in  a 
book,  which  the  clerk  who  registered  them  said  counted 
five  millions  and  four  thousand.  To  the  meanest  beg- 
gar he  speaks  as  kindly  as  the  titled  gentleman,  and 
to  the  suffering  I  often  saw  him  slip  a  little  change, 
bidding  them  depart,  and  not  disgrace  him  by  breaking 
the  pledge. 

He  invited  me  to  dinner  at  five  o'clock,  and  his 
dining-room  wore  the  same  unassuming  appearance,  as 
does  everything  about  him — no  carpet,  no  sofa,  and  not 
an  appendage  but  what  was  absolutely  necessary.  His 
table  is  arranged  in  the  most  finished  order,  and  the 
cooking,  which  is  done  by  a  man,  is  of  the  best  kind. 
He  seldom  dines  alone. 

The  next  morning  at  eight,  he  invited  me  to  the 
chapel,  to  see  an  aged  nun  renew  her  vow,  who  had 
fifty  years  been  teaching  the  poor,  and  had  never  been 
out  of  that  convent.  She  approached  the  grating  which 
separated  the  room  from  the  chapel,  with  her  black 
robe  and  veil  upon  her  head,  while  the  meek  man  con- 
gratulated her  on  her  long  faithfulness  in  laboring 
for  the  poor,  and  pointing  her  to  the  reward  in  heaven 
which  he  trusted  was  in  store  for  her,  gave  her  the 
thanks  of  the  convent,  and  pronounced  his  benedic- 
tion. He  spoke  of  crowning  her,  a  ceremony  usual  on 
such  occasions,  but  she  refused  the  honor.  She  then 
renewed  her  vow  in  an  audible  but  softened  manner, 
promised  to  be  faithful  unto  death,  &c.  The  cere- 
monies closed,  I  then  accompanied  Father  Mathew 
to  the  convent,  where  I  had  been  invited  to  breakfast 
with  him.  The  breakfast  was  the  first  I  had  seen  in 
American  style  in  Ireland,  and  though  their  baef- 
steak,  coffee,  and  other  etceteras  I  declined,  yet  good 
cream,  the  best  of  bread,  and  jam,  made  a  palatable  re- 
past. The  nuns  sat  by  the  table,  but  did  not  eat,  and 
11* 


250  CO.  OF  CORK.  [chap.  xiv. 

were  surprised  and  distressed  at  my  abstinence.  I  was 
here  introduced  to  the  nun  who  had  renewed  her  yow  ; 
and  when  she  told  me  she  was  eighty-four,  and  not  a 
furrow  had  old  Time  made  in  her  plump  placid  face,  I 
was  compelled  to  take  her  word  for  it,  for  there  was  no 
other  testimony.  Father  Mathew  sent  his  man  to  show 
me  the  way  to  the  Independent  church,  telling  him  to  go 
in,  and  introduce  me  to  the  sexton. 

The  next  evening  a  temperance  meeting  was  held  in 
a  neatly  decorated  room,  prepared  by  the  poor  fishwo- 
men,  who  were  tetotalers.  "  You  must  go,"  said  Father 
Mathew,  "  as  you  wish  to  see  the  poor.  These  women, 
five  years  ago,  were  the  greatest  nuisances  in  Cork ; 
but  they  took  the  pledge,  and  not  one  has  broken 
it." 

I  went.  The  rich,  too,  were  there  ;  they  had  been 
invited  because  it  was  the  poor  who  had  made  the 
feast. 

The  room  was  crowded  ;  tea  was  prepared,  and  the 
meeting  was  opened  by  three  cheers  for  the  Queen  ;  and 
I  could  not  mention  the  unexpected  kind  feeling  be- 
stowed thus  publicly  on  me,  were  it  not  a  duty  which  I 
owe  to  a  class  of  people  whom  I  had  ever  been  taught 
felt  nothing  but  bitterness,  and  acted  nothing  but  perse- 
cution to  their  opponents.  But  justice,  not  sectarian- 
ism, must  be  my  motto ;  character,  and  not  popularity, 
must  be  my  watchword.*  I  was  a  Protestant,  and  they 
knew  it.  Father  Mathew  arose,  and  introduced  me  to 
the  audience,  telling  them  my  object  in  Ireland  was  to 
visit  the  poor,  and  learn  their  true  condition  ;  adding  a 
sketch  of  my  manner  of  travelling  and  living,  which  I 
had  never  told  him. 

When  the  cheering  and  welcomes  had  subsided, 
Father  Mathew,  in  a  low  voice,  said,  "  You  must  speak 
to  this  people,  you  can  do  them  good  ;  get  up  without 
delay,  and  tell  them  what  you  came  for."     My  eyes 

*  As  the  Roman  Catholics  in  America  are  mostly  from  Ireland, 
it  is  a  desirable  object  to  ascertain  what  this  religion  has  done 
for  them  at  home,  and  what  character  they  manifest  where  it 
has  been  most  cultured. 


CHAP.  XIV.]  CO.  OF  CORK.  251 

affected  my  heart ;  I  had  never  before  seen  such  a  re- 
spectable-looking company  of  the  poor  assembled  in 
Ireland,  and,  accompanied,  too,  with  the  rich  and  the 
noble,  taking  their  tea  together.  I  briefly  stated  my 
motives  in  visiting  Ireland,  congratulated  them  on  the 
progress  of  the  temperance  cause,  and  sat  down. 

An  old  grey-haired  priest  arose,  and  said,  "  I  have 
read  of  prophets,  I  have  read  of  apostles,  I  have  read 
of  martyrs,  but  among  them  all,  I  never  read  nor 
heard  that  ever  a  woman  left  her  country  alone,  to 
search  out  a  poor  people — to  suffer  privation  with 
them — to  learn  their  true  condition.  What  shall  we 
do  for  her,  and  how  shall  we  express  our  gratitude  ?" 

This  was  reciprocated  through  the  room,  and  when 
the  meeting  ended,  not  one  of  that  great  multitude 
would  leave  the  house  till  each  had  given  the  hand  to 
say,  *'  welcome,  welcome  to  our  country." 

The  next  day,  this  old  priest  called  at  my  lodgings. 
I  was  out,  but  he  left  a  pressing  invitation  that  I 
should  visit  his  parish — said  he  was  a  poor  man,  and 
could  give  i^ie  nothing  ;  but  would  show  me  his  poople 
and  the  country,  and  that  he  would  happily  do.  He 
found  me  at  Father  Mathew's,  and  redoubled  his  in- 
vitations. The  same  evening  a  temperance  meeting 
was  held  at  the  Rock.  The  promise  was  made  that  I 
should  not  be  invited  to  speak  ;  that  supper  and  mu- 
sic would  occupy  the  time,  and  no  speech-making.  Not 
so  ;  Father  Mathew  again  said,  "  Do  what  you  can  for 
this  people.  Say  what  you  feel,  and  say  it  as  you 
please." 

The  notices  made  of  me  in  their  papers,  brought  me 
before  the  public  so  prominently,  that  I  begged  them 
to  desist.  I  had  wished  to  go  through  Ireland  as 
anobservedly  as  possible,  asking  no  honorary  atten- 
tions. 

The  city  of  Cork,  as  a  whole,  has  much  that  is  in- 
teresting. The  houses  upon  the  hill  side,  that  overlook 
the  main  city,  the  Dyke  with  rows  of  trees  for  a  mile 
and  more,  and  the  country-seats  sprinkled  in  vale  and 


252  CO.  OF  CORK.  [chap.  xiv. 

on  mountain,  sLow  the  observer  that  taste,  as  well  as 
wealth,  has  had  something  to  do  in  the  management. 

Upon  Wellington-bridge  I  met  an  Irishman,  who 
said,  ^'  I  have  just  got  out  of  a  bad  scrape — have  been 
to  the  churchyard  with  a  hearse  ;  the  horses  took  fright, 
and  I  was  drunk,  and  was  very  near  being  killed." 
^'  Come  with  me  to  Father  Mathew,  and  take  the 
pledge."  "  I  could  not  keep  it,"  he  replied,  '^  and  it 
would  do  no  good."  He  had  made  his  wife  take  it, 
but  as  for  him  there  could  be  no  hope.  A  priest  then 
passed,  when  he  touched  his  hat  in  a  respectful  man- 
ner. ''  What  honor  you  pay  to  these  men.  I  see  no 
touch  of  the  hat  when  others  pass.''  "  Not  to  the  man," 
said  he,  "  but  to  what  he  may  have  about  him.  He 
may  have  been  to  visit  some  dying  person,  and  have 
some  of  tho  broken  body  of  the  Saviour  around  his  per- 
son." The  expression  was  to  me  so  novel  that  I  said 
no  more. 

Took  dinner  at  Father  Mathew's,  and  met  an  intelli- 
gent priest.  A  brother  and  young  son  of  the  apostle 
of  Temperance  were  present.  The  order  of  the  table, 
the  nicely  prepared  vegetables  and  fruit,  the  social  en- 
lightened cheerfulness,  with  neither  porter  nor  wine  as  a 
stimulus,  certainly  would  have  honored  a  Protestant 
clergyman's  table,  and  made  me  ardently  desire  that 
they  might  "  go  and  do  likewise." 

Wednesday. — Visited  the  celebrated  Ursuline  con- 
vent at  Black  Rock.  A  note  of  introduction  from 
Father  Mathew,  with  the  young  twin  sisters  of  the 
family  who  had  once  hospitably  lodged  me,  for  guides, 
made  the  walk  pleasant ;  and  the  reception  was  cordial 
at  the  convent.  We  found  a  spacious  building  on  a 
rising  ground,  commanding  a  view  of  the  Lee,  and  a 
company  of  healthy  cheerful  looking  nuns,  affable  and 
intelligent,  teaching  a  school  of  young  ladies,  and  poor 
children.  Pianos  were  in  every  room,  and  in  some  we 
found  two  ;  everything  bore  the  appearance  of  com- 
fort and  good  order,  with  much  taste  and  style.  A 
little,  well  selected  museum,  added  much  to  the  inter- 
est of  the  establishment  ;  and  a  more  thorough  educa- 


CHAP.  XIV.]  CO.  OF  CORK.  253 

tion  is  here  obtained,  than  in  any  other  school.  A  nun 
played  upon  an  organ  with  good  taste  ;  and  a  look 
into  the  chapel  of  the  convent,  richly  fitted  up,  finished 
the  views  of  this  inside  world,  which,  observed  a  nun, 
^'  as  this  is  all  the  world  to  us,  why  should  we  not 
gather  as  much  of  its  beauties  as  possible  around  us  .^" 
The  extensive  walks,  shaded  with  trees,  and  well  laid 
out  garden,  must  compensate  considerably  for  all  with- 
out. A  dinner  of  pea-soup  and  toasted  bread  was  to 
me  a  rich  treat,  but  the  twin  sisters  were  forbidden  by 
their  church  to  partake,  as  it  was  Ash  Wednesday, 
and  a  rigid  fast  was  imposed.  The  poor  girls  fretted 
and  murmured  the  long  walk  home,  hoping  such  pe- 
nances would  be  "  few  and  far  between."  In  vain  I 
preached  cheerful  submission  as  a  test  of  obedience — 
that  no  bowing  to  church  or  priest — no  long  fasts  or 
long  prayers,  would  be  available,  if  performed  by  com- 
pulsion, or  to  merit  a  reward.  They  did  not  understand 
my  far-fetched  dogmas,  and  would  not  be  persuaded,  but 
that  a  day  of  suifering  like  that  must  meet  an  ample  re- 
ward. The  dinner-hour  brought  me  to  Father  Ma- 
thew's  table,  where  three  kinds  of  fish,  with  puddings, 
jellies,  and  fruits,  were  substitutes  for  pig,  beef,  and 
poultry,  which  Lent  forbids.  The  fastings  of  both  Ro- 
mans and  Protestants  are  often  more  ludicrous  than 
grave  ;  for  while  the  poor  culprit  takes  a  light  breakfast 
for  conscience'  sake,  he  trebles  his  supper  for  his  sto- 
mach's sake,  determining  that  the  "  sun  shall  not  go 
down"  till  he  is  paid  his  wages. 

Thursday. — Took  a  lunch  with  a  lady  who  had  ex- 
pressed a  desire  to  see  me ;  and  this  desire  resulted  in 
happy  consequences  to  me,  ever  after  while  in  Cork. 
After  a  pleasant  interview,  she  made  an  appointment 
to  visit  Blarney  on  Saturday.  I  went  out,  and  took  the 
steam  packet  for  Cove.  The  prospect  up  the  river  was 
beautiful,  giving  the  view  of  Black  Rock,  and  the  con- 
vent, Monkton,  and  its  tasteful  cottages  and  pleasure 
grounds.  Stepping  ashore,  I  made  my  way  alone  up 
the  hill,  to  the  highest  look-out  upon  the  beautiful  bay 
of  Cove,  and  realized  all  that   had    been  told  me  in 


254  CO.  OF  CORK.  [chap.  xiv. 

America  by  every  visitor  as  well  as  by  Irishmen,  "  that 
the  Cove  of  Cork  is  not  surpassed  in  beauty  by  any  bay 
on  our  globe."  Its  islands  and  extensive  reach,  with 
its  green  shores,  even  in  winter,  looked  like  blooming 
l^wns  and  summer  shades,  inviting  the  saunterer  to 
bowers  of  repose  ;  and  to  every  lover  of  scenery  allow 
me  to  say,  "  Visit  the  Cove  of  Cork,  should  you  ever 
take  the  tour  of  Ireland." 

Upon  the  top  of  the  hill  are  springs  of  clear  water, 
which  send  forth  rivulets  down  its  side,  ever  fresh  and 
never  failing,  furnishing  the  dwellers  on  the  sloping  hill 
a  supply  the  whole  year.  Inquiring  of  a  woman  raising 
a  bucket  of  water  from  one  of  these  sparkling  rivulets, 
if  she  could  direct  me  to  a  lodging-house,  one  standing 
near  responded,  "  You  can  give  her  one,  and  as  clane  a 
bed  as  in  all  Cove  ;"  and  I  had  no  cause  to  regret  meet- 
ing these  cottagers.  The  room  was  clean,  the  bed 
wholesome,  and  the  charge  moderate  ;  and  at  five  I  made 
my  entrance  into  the  town  over  a  wall,  down  a  precipice, 
partly  by  stairs,  to  a  range  of  cabins  sheltered  under 
the  hill,  and  jutting  into  a  narrow  path  that  bordered 
on  the  sea.  Seeing  a  woman  at  her  door,  I  asked,  "  Can 
you  tell  me  where  Doctor  Power  lives  .^"  Her  answer 
was  a  piteous  whine,  that  her  husband  had  not  been 
able  to  airn  a  sixpence  for  weeks,  and  begged  me  to  go 
in  and  see  "  the  poor  cratur."  All  this  without  a  word 
of  Doctor  Power.  When  the  question  was  repeated, 
and  the  answer,  "  Will  ye  walk  in  and  spake  to  the 
man  r"  which  savored  so  much  of  an  attack  upon  my 
scanty  purse,  that,  saying  I  was  in  haste,  and  must  find 
Doctor  Power,  I  turned  away,  "  And  y'ill  meet  him  a 
bit  under  yer  fut,"  she  called  out  in  a  healthy  credit- 
able tone.  A  seven  months'  travelling  in  Ireland  had 
taught  me  a  little  discrimination.  Begging,  here,  is  so 
common  and  so  respectable  among  the  poor,  that  many 
resort  to  intrigues  and  petty  ingenuities  when  they  meet 
a  stranger  ;  which  is  a  kind  of  dishonesty  not  only  to 
the  stranger,  but  to  the  thousands  who,  by  the  last  ex- 
tremity, arc  driven  to  this  method  to  escape  starva- 
tiov 


CHAP.  XIV.]  CO.  OP  CORK.  255 

The  next  cabin  witli  open  door,  I  put  in  my  head, 
and  saw  the  mother  with  five  children  sitting  upright 
in  bed,  all  putting  on  their  "  apology"  for  clothes  ; 
and  certainly  no  small  nest  was  ever  fuller.  The  good 
matron  told  me  where  I  should  find  the  house  in  ques- 
tion. I  lingered  long  enough  to  learn  that  the  father 
of  this  "  joyous  genealogy"  had  arisen  an  hour  before 
out  of  the  same  bed,  and  gone  to  his  work.  Ye  downy- 
bed  sleepers  what  say  ye  to  this  ?  What  say  you  to 
these  your  own  countrymen  t  And  "  who  maketh  thee 
to  difi"er  ?"  and  "  what  hast  thou  that  thou  didst  not 
receive  ?" 

Enclosed  among  trees  at  the  margin  of  the  water, 
was  the  festooned  cottage  of  Dr.  Power,  adorned  with 
walks  and  shrubbery  ;  and  at  the  door  stood  the  titled 
gentleman  and  his  lady,  about  to  enter  their  carriage 
for  an  excursion  to  Cork.  A  letter  of  introduction 
from  a  brother  of  his  in  New  York  gave  me  a  welcome 
reception,  and  stepping  into  their  carriage,  I  went  with 
them  to  Cork,  promising  a  return  in  a  few  days. 

Mrs.  P.  is  a  genuine  American,  a  daughter  of  the 
well-known  Judge  Livingston  of  New  York,  amiable 
and  courteous  to  all.  I  was  proud  to  find  in  one  of  my 
own  country  so  much  kindness,  so  much  affability  in 
rank  so  high.  The  doctor  was  an  Irishman  by  birth, 
but  had  spent  much  of  his  early  life  in  America,  and 
imbibed  so  much  of  republicanism,  that  respectability 
in  coarse  boots  and  jacket  received  as  hearty  a  grasp 
of  the  hand  as  when  dressed  in  morocco  or  broad- 
cloth. 

At  five,  again  seated  at  the  hospitable  board  of  Fa- 
ther Mathew,  where  I  was  daily  invited  to  dine  while 
in  Cork.  New  guests  were  present  each  day,  always 
accompanied  by  his  brother,  who  was  an  overseer  of  the 
workhouse.  He  was  a  promoter  of  morality  and  good 
order,  and  sympathized  deeply  in  all  the  movements  of 
temperance. 

Saturday,  February  8th. — The  kind  Mrs.  Danker 
called  in  her  carriage,  accompanied  by  a  young  lady 
and  the  only  son  of  Mrs.  D.,  a  boy  of  seven,  with  a 


256  CO.  OF  CORK.  [chap.  xiv. 

basket  of  eatables,  and  I  joined  them  on  the  promised 
tour  to  the  far-famed  Blarney.     Our  first  depot,  after 

seven  miles'  ride,  was  to  the  door  of  Father , 

his  name  quite  out  of  mind  by  looking  at  the  man  him- 
self— a  genuine  Irish  priest  of  the  olden  coin.  He  met 
as  at  the  door  with  a  three-cornered  hat  upon  the  top 
of  his  crown  at  a  respectable  distance  from  his  ears,  and 
io  pliable  at  the  corners,  that  it  seemed  bending  to  hear 
"V^hatever  the  divine  might  wish  to  communicate.  He 
carried  a  red  full  face,  jolly  countenance,  with  bone 
and  muscle  aspiring  to  the  weight  of  two  hundred. 
He  gave  us  a  true  Irish  welcome,  and  ushered  us  into 
the  kitchen  till  a  fire  would  be  made  in  his  bed-room, 
which  served,  too,  for  drawing-room  and  parlor.  "  Pm 
allowed  no  wife  and  brats  to  privilege  me  with  the 
comforts  of  a  separate  parlor  ;  and  a  poor  parish  priest 
must  take  his  herring  as  he  can  get  it.  But  this  forty 
days  Lent !  My  heart  is  scalt  and  my  tongue  parched 
with  this  blackguard  salt  herring,  and  not  a  divil  of  a 
fresh  bit  of  beef  are  we  allowed  ;  and  so  you  see  I  can 
set  you  no  dinner  but  a  bit  of  bread  and  cheese,  and  a 
fish."  Assuring  him  we  had  plenty  in  our  basket,  he 
presented  a  bottle  of  wine  with  a  volley  of  anathemas 
on  tobacco,  declaring  that  "  no  man  that  used  it  was  fit 
for  the  divil." 

The  old  priest  was  a  great  antiquarian,  could  tell  us 
all  that  had  transpired  in  Ireland  since  the  year  1,  in 
natural  or  political  history,  the  nature  of  all  sorts  of 
minerals  and  vegetables,  and  assured  us  that  no  man 
living  knew  these  things  so  well.  And  besides,  he  had 
the  best  disciplined  parish  in  all  Ireland — the  best  fed 
and  the  most  honest  people  in  all  the  world.  I  was 
informed  by  others  that  this  was  all  true. 

"  If  ye'll  take  no  dinner,  though  I  hate  Blarney,  yet, 
for  the  sake  of  this  American,  I'll  go  and  show  ye,  and 
walk  with  her  while  the  ladies  ride."  For  a  mile  my 
wondering  ears  were  crammed  with  tales  of  ancient 
chieftains  in  Ireland's  days  of  glory,  till  my  ohs  and 
ahs  of  wonder  growing  fainter,  he  ordered  me  into  the 
coach,  to  leave  him  to  take  a  shorter  route  across  the 


cuAj'.  XIV.]  CO.  OF  CORK.  /257 

meadow  ;  and  soon  the  fat  priest,  triangular  hat,  and 
dog,  were  lessening  in  the  distance.  But  when  we 
overtook  him,  and  he  found  that  his  company  were  not 
allowed  to  take  their  carriage  through  the  gate,  his 
indignation  was  roused,  that  menials  dependent  on  him 
should  dare  to  use  him  thus. 

Now  came  Blarney,  the  celebrated  Blarney,  where 
many  a  name  is  carved  ;  where  lords  and  ladies,  pea- 
sants and  beggars,  have  strolled  and  sat.  Here  was 
the  seat  pointed  to  me,  where  Mrs.  Hall,  the  writer  on 
Ireland,  rested  ;  and  the  old  priest  suggested  the  inspi- 
ration I  might  receive  by  sitting  there  on  the  same 
stone,  by  the  same  stone  summer-house.  The  whole  is 
a  romantic  spot ;  a  hermit's  cell  of  stone,  where  he  slept 
— his  kitchen,  where  he  cooked,  and  the  grave  where 
he  is  buried,  were  all  shown  us.  The  rocking  stone  on 
which  Prince  Desmond  was  crowned,  some  centuries 
gone  by  ;  ancient  trees,  seats  of  moss-covered  stone  of 
the  richest  green,  running  water,  laurels  and  ivies, 
green  lawns  spread  out,  made  it  a  place  of  the  most 
pleasing  interest.  It  belongs  to  the  family  of  Jeffreys. 
Lady  Jeffrey  has  improved  it  much.  She  passed  us 
while  we  were  admiring,  and  told  our  guide  to  show 
us  all  that  it  contained.  The  grand  castle  containing 
the  Blarney-stone  is  a  great  curiosity,  standing  as  it 
does  on  an  awfully  high  rock,  overlooking  the  river  far 
below  it,  deep,  and  winding  its  way  among  trees  and 
thick  grass.  To  me  it  was  frightful  to  look  out  from  a 
loop-hole,  and  see  the  river  below  ;  and  to  climb  to  the 
top  to  kiss  the  Blarney-stone,  stretching  my  neck  out 
of  the  window  over  the  dizzy  steep,  would  have  been 
madness,  though  I  was  told  many  a  silly  boy  and  girl 
had  done  it. 

When  we  had  admired — for  this  was  all  we  could  do 
as  the  entrance  to  the  inmost  apartments  was  closed — 
we  walked  to  the  lake,  and  sat  down  to  calm  our  ex- 
citement by  its  placid  waters,  while  the  little  son  of  my 
friend  was  in  playful  glee  sporting  around  us. 

We  must  and  did  leave,  our  priest  hurrying  home  to 
arrange  matters  for  our  reception,  while  we  wejit  to 


•258  CO.  OF  CORK.  [chap.xiv. 

the  cold-water  establishment  kept  by  Mr.  Barter.  To 
describe  the  apparatus  would  be  impossible.  In  a 
circular,  well-finished,  thatched  cottage,  are  the  differ- 
ent douche  and  shower  baths,  warm  and  cold,  prepared 
with  the  best  finish.  All  manner  of  pouring  and 
showering,  plungings  and  washings,  have  here  appro- 
priate fixtures.  His  spacious  well-ventilated  house 
for  the  reception  of  invalids,  does  credit  to  the  owner, 
who  told  us  that  one  hundred  and  sixty  patients  had 
made  the  experiment,  and  every  one  had  been  cured, 
and  none  but  obstinate  cases  had  applied.  They  are 
allowed  no  ardent  spirits,  tea,  or  coffee ;  and  flesh  meat 
but  once  a  day.  The  Doctor  appeared  to  understand 
his  business  well,  and  is  apparently  a  worthy  philan- 
thropist. With  regret  I  left  this  place,  wishing  for  a 
longer  and  better  acquaintance  with  the  principles  of 
this  institution ;  but  night  was  gathering,  and  the 
patience  of  the  old  priest  would  be  exhausted.  We 
found  him  standing  by  the  window  of  his  bed-room, 
where  he  said  he  had  stood  two  hours,  till  his  "  heart 
was  scalded,"  watching  our  return.  And  more  than 
all,  he  had  invited  one  of  his  curates  and  the  doctor  to 
dine  with  us,  on  his  fish  dinner.  They  had  disappoint- 
ed him,  and  everything  was  wrong.  Three  women  of 
the  peasantry  were  sitting  upon  the  bed,  by  the  side  of 
a  table,  regaling  themselves  with  bread,  cheese,  and  whis- 
key, which  the  good  Father  assured  us  "  they  liked 
right  well." 

We  would  not  take  dinner,  and  hot  water  was  or- 
dered for  whiskey  punch,  and  wine  brought  on.  Now 
the  battle  commenced ;  the  jolly  priest  touched  his 
three-cornered  hat,  at  the  same  moment  drinking  my 
health  most  heartily,  while  I  in  surly  contempt  turned 
aside,  without  nodding  to  the  salute.  "  Ah !  she's 
disgusted,  I  know.  Well,  ma'am,  if  you'll  appoint  a 
day,  I  will  make  a  party  in  my  barn  as  big  as  1  did  for 
Mrs.  Hall — one  hundred  and  sixty — and  you  shall  see 
my  fine  parish.  But  this  fish,  ma'am,  that  we  are 
forced  to  cat  through  Lent,  this  fish,  ladies!  Why,  I 
.kept  Lent  once,  and  ate  nothing  but  salt  herring,  till  I 


(juAP.  xiv.j  '  CO.  or  CORK.  259 

was  scalt  entirely — I  was  a  lump  of  salt,  ladies" — then 
swallowing  a  glass  of  hot  punch,  "  I  am  sorry  you  don't 
know  what's  good,  ladies."  This  toasting  and  drink- 
ing were  kept  up  till  lateness  and  darkness  both  urged 
a  departure.  We  were  accompanied  to  the  door  by  the 
loquacious  priest,  and  a  glass  of  hot  punch  for  the 
coachman,  who,  in  answer  to  my  remonstrances,  an- 
swered with  an  "  Aw,  and  I  shall  drive  ye  the  better 
for  wawrmin'  my  stomach  a  little."  What  can  be  said 
to  coachmen,  and  laboring  men,  that  will  be  available, 
when  the  "  good  creature"  is  presented  by  the  holy 
hands  of  the  priest  or  clergyman  r  We  had  a  safe 
ride  home,  though  the  rain  was  severe,  and  the  night 
dark,  the  road  muddy,  and  the  driver's  noddle  steeped 
in  hot  punch.  The  point  was  settled  on  going  home, 
that  the  day  had  been  a  more  than  interesting  one  ;  and 
if  the  ''  well-disciplined  parish"  of  this  jolly  priest  bore 
any  resemblance  to  the  training  they  had  been  under, 
a  dinner  at  the  barn  would  have  been  one  of  no  ordi- 
nary relish.* 

The  next  day  heard  a  prosing  common-place  dis- 
course from  the  baptist  minister  where  I  dined  on  the 
potatoe  and  salt,  in  which  he  said  he  had  no  sympathy 
for  a  religion  that  comes  out  in  a  certain  color  or  cut  of 
the  dress,  or  particular  kinds  of  meat  and  drink.  This 
sentence  was  so  entirely  a  digression  from  text  or  ser- 
mon, that  I  pocketed  the  rebuke  for  not  partaking  of 
the  swine's  flesh  at  his  table,  "and  hoped  to  learn 
better  manners  as  I  get  along."  After  service,  taking 
a  bundle  of  tracts,  I  walked  to  Cove.  On  my  way,  two 
little  cleanly-dressed  girls  were  before  me,  reading  a 
collection  of  Scripture  admonitions  from  Father 
Mathew ;  approaching  them,  I  asked,  "  What  are  you 
reading,  little  girls.?" 

*  I  would  not  be  unmindful  of  the  kindness  shown  me  by  this 
humorous  priest,  neither  would  I  make  or  strive  to  make  myself 
witty  at  his  expense ;  but  I  visited  Ireland  to  see  people  and  priest 
as  they  are,  and  here  was  too  good  a  subject  to  be  thrown  away. 
It  was  true  Irish  coin,  and  I  valued  it  not  the  less  for  appearing  in 
its  native  dress. 


260  CO.  OF  CORK.  [chap.  xiv. 

''  Something,  ma'am,  that  Father  Mathew  wrote." 
They  had  come  out  of  chapel,  where  they  had  obtained 
this  document  from  their  priest.  They  were  but  chil- 
dren of  ten  and  eleven,  and  the  girl  who  was  reading- 
was  no  novice  in  the  art.  I  presented  each  of  them 
■with  a  little  book,  and  thanking  me,  delighted,  they 
ran  on  to  a  company  of  girls  before  them,  but  soon  re- 
turned, saying,  "  Here  are  more  little  girls  who  can 
read,  and  hav'n't  you  a  book  for  them  ^  May  be  you 
couldn't  spare  'em,  but  they  would  be  very  glad  of 
one."  Her  interesting  manner  so  won  upon  me,  that 
she  might  have  drained  my  basket,  had  not  an  older 
one  in  the  party  checked  her  importunity.  My  com- 
pany was  now  quite  numerous,  for  men,  women,  and 
children  were  following  in  my  train.  I  gave  them  each 
a  book,  and  walked  on  to  the  next  village.  All  who 
accompanied  me  disappeared  among  the  cottages, 
saying,  "  God  speed  ye,"  and  left  me  alone.  In  a 
moment  the  two  whom  I  first  accosted,  came  out,  and 
said,  "  We  are  goin'  on  a  message  to  the  bridge,  and 
will  be  with  you  a  bit."  The  bridge  was  passed,  it 
was  getting  dark,  and  I  said,  "you  had  better  return, 
your  parents  may  chide  you."  "No,"  said  the  young- 
est of  but  nine  years  old,  "  ye  are  lonely  and  the 
night'll  be  on  ye,  and  we'll  go  with  ye  to  the  town. 
We'd  as  lieve  go  with  a  stranger  as  with  one  of  our 
own."  The  artless  simplicity  with  which  she  said  this, 
and  the  expression  of  kindness  which  lighted  up  her 
countenance  when  she  spoke,  strongly  inclined  me  to 
take  her  in  my  arms,  and  snatch  her  away  from  a  land 
where  the  poor  must  be  kept  in  their  rank  because  they 
are  poor. 

The  instinct  of  kindness  which  is  so  strong  in  the 
children  of  the  peasantry,  is  remarkable  throughout  the 
country,  and  offers  to  the  observing  stranger  a  redeem- 
ing substitute  for  all  other  privations.  My  little  com- 
panions took  me  in  sight  of  the  town,  and  pointing 
forward,  "  and  ye'll  find  the  ferry  on  a  bit,"  said  "  God 
speed  ye,"  and  scampered  away,  with  my  heart  in  gal- 
loping rpced  after  them. 


CHAP.  XIV.]  CO.  OF  CORK.  261 

The  ferriage  was  a  penny,  which  was  given  on 
entering  the  boat.  Stepping  ashore,  I  was  accosted 
with,  "  Four  pence,  ma'am  ;  four  pence  is  the  ferriage 
you  must  pay  me."  "  You  did  not  know,  sir,  a  yankee 
knows  full  well  when  the  fare  is  paid."  "  You're  a 
thief,"  said  a  countryman,  "  let  the  woman  pass  on," 
and  the  crowd  gave  way  to  allow  me  to  go  through. 
This  was  taking  the  advantage  of  the  lone  stranger, 
and  quite  the  other  side  of  the  glowing  picture  presented 
by  the  little  girls, 

A  half  mile  took  me  to  the  desired  haven  of  Doctor 
Power's,  and  I  felt  as  if  I  were  by  an  American  fireside 
where  peace  and  good  order  prevailed.  Here  I  passed 
a  week,  where  everything  was  done  for  my  comfort. 
The  children  were  a  source  of  diversion  and  interest, 
being  talented,  intelligent,  and  kind-hearted.  Under 
the  superintendence  of  a  judicious  mother,  a  kind 
father,  a  sensible  experienced  grandmother,  and  good 
governess,  they  must  improve.  A  dancing,  drawing, 
and  music  master  weekly  attended,  dancing  in  Ireland 
being  considered  a  necessary  part  of  education,  even 
by  many  of  the  church.  None  of  the  higher  class 
ever  omit  it,  and  the  lower  so  manage,  that  at  an  early 
age  the  peasantry  spend  much  time  in  dancing  to  the 
bagpipe,  or  the  discordant  vocal  performance  of  some 
rustic.  "  It's  all  the  sport  the  like  of  us  have,"  said 
one  who  invited  me  to  a  field  dance.  Old  and  young, 
priest  and  people,  participate,  approve,  or  disapprove  as 
the  case  may  be. 

My  stay  in  this  family  was  protracted,  from  a  reluc- 
tance to  leave  a  society  which  had  become  doubly 
endearing  from  what  I  had  and  must  again  encounter 
in  my  tour  through  Ireland.  For,  though  1  had  been 
treated  very  kindly  in  good  families,  yet  I  had  found 
few  where  the  household  management  had  been  so 
home-like  ;  where  a  genteel  lady  would  go  into  her 
kitchen,  and  prepare  with  her  own  hands  the  nice  dish 
for  her  guests  ;  where  laborer  and  animal  shared  in 
that  kindness,  which,   though  easy  to  be.stow,  yet  is 


CO.  OF  CORK.  [chap.  xV. 


seldom    manifested    whore    wealth    and    fashion    pre- 
dominate. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

Cloyne— Difference  between  Upstarts  and  the  really  Wellbred— Practical  Proofs 
of  the  same — Wonderful  Natural  Caves — City  Jail  of  Cork — Humane  Governor 
— Prison  Discipline — Taking  leave  of  a  good  man — Character  of  Father 
Mathew— No  IMouopoly  in  Orthodoxy— A  Night  in  Baudon— A  Peasant  Family 
employed,  a  rare  sight  in  Ireland — Arrival  at  the  miserable  toTvn  of  Bantry. 

Saturday^  February  loth. — Mrs.  P.,  her  mother,  and 
two  children  accompanied  me  in  their  carriage  four 
miles  to  the  ferry,  leaving  me  three  miles  to  walk  to 
Cloyne.  I  had  letters  of  introduction  from  the  govern- 
ess to  a  couple  of  families  in  high  life  ;  the  first,  born 
in  obscurity,  the  second  of  princely  descent.  "  You 
will  see,"  said  my  friend,  "  in  these  two  families  the 
extremes  of  silly  pride  and  genuine  unostentatious 
nobleness  of  character — where  if  worldly  distinctions 
claim  any  share  in  merit,  they  are  the  legitimate 
owners  of  a  great  share."  A  hurried  walk,  in  some- 
what an  uneven  and  uninviting  scenery,  brought  mo 
at  last  to  Cloyne.  Making  my  way  by  inquiry,  the 
house  was  pointed  out,  and  a  stupid  servant  took  my 
letter,  saying,  "  The  young  ladies  are  out,"  but  soon 
returned  from  the  kitchen,  saying  they  had  gone  to 
meeting.  She  had  left  the  note  with  a  brother  of  the 
young  ladies,  who  had  broken  the  seal,  and  after  a  half 
hour  of  most  tedious  suspense,  I  regained  the  note,  and 
went  away  to  a  neighboring  house.  I  was  soon  called 
for  by  the  sisters,  who  invited  me  in,  and  the  first 
question  after  being  seated  was,  "  Is  this  the  way  the 
Americans  dress  ?  Indeed  I  thought  they  dressed  very 
tawdry."  "  This  is  the  dress  which  Americans  would 
wear  when  travelling,  madam."  The  character  of 
Americans  now  went  through  a  fiery  ordeal.     A  gen- 


CHAP.  XV.]  CO.  OF  CORK.  263 

tleman  had  lately  returned  from  New  York,  who  testified 
he  had  seen  Irish  servants  at  balls,  among  the  highest 
classes  ;  and  had  at  parties  seen  pics  with  crnsts  an 
inch  thick,  and  so  tough  he  could  not  bite  them.  So 
much  for  American  dress,  American  republicanism,  and 
American  cookery,  as  a  preface. 

As  Cloyne  could  boast  of  some  antiquities,  I  was 
conducted  to  see  the  most  remarkable,  and  the  church 
built  in  600  by  the  Catholics  first  claimed  our  atten- 
tion. This  church  is  now  fitted  up  for  Protestants, 
and  retains  as  much  of  its  ancient  appearance  as  pos- 
sible, claiming  to  be  one  of  the  noblest  works  of  anti- 
quity. The  hieroglyphics  on  the  stones  under  which 
the  dead  are  deposited,  and  many  remains  of  ancient 
workmanship,  tell  emphatically  for  the  taste  of  the 
ancients,  as  well  as  the  passing  away  of  all  that  is 
earthly.  The  chapel  where  service  is  performed  con- 
tains the  bishop's  throne,  which  by  some  amalgamation 
has  been  doomed  to  be  the  seat  where  all  bishops, 
either  Protestant  or  Catholic,  must  be  ordained. 
Tablets,  ancient  and  modern,  are  upon  the  walls  of  the 
aisle  and  church  ;  the  aisle  is  the  width  of  the  church, 
and  longer  than  the  chapel  itself,  and  seems  to  be  waste 
entirely.  Next  to  the  bishop's  throne,  my  young  heir- 
esses told  me  was  their  pew,  claiming  to  hold  the  highest 
rank  in  the  church  ! 

We  next  prepared  for  an  ascent  into  the  tower, 
which  is  the  most  complete  of  any  in  Ireland,  built  by 
nobody  knows  whom,  nobody  knows  when,  and  nobody 
knows  for  what  purpose.  It  is  now  used  for  hanging 
a  bell,  to  call  people  to  church.  We  ascended  a  flight 
of  steps  to  the  height  of  102  feet,  and  had  a  most 
commanding  view  of  town  and  adjacent  country ; 
but  so  perpendicular  were  the  stairs,  that  1  was  tole- 
rably crippled  for  two  days  following.  It  was  night 
when  we  reached  the  domicile  of  these  newly  estated 
misses,  who  did  all  that  was  rational  to  make  me  com- 
fortable, so  far  as  eating  and  sleeping  were  concerned, 
minding  to  entertain  me  with  the  out  of  ihe  way  vul- 
garities of  New  York,  its  common-place  magistrates, 


264  CO.  OF  CORK.  [chap.  xv. 

its  little  respect  to  rank  and  fortune  ;  assuring  me  that 
their  authority  was  good,  emanating  from  an  assistant 
editor  of  Gordon  Bennett.  But  Sabbath  morning  was 
the  test  of  the  civility  of  these  religious  housekeepers, 
for  they  assured  me  they  were  communicants  in  the 
church.  As  the  bell  was  ringing,  the  eldest  observed, 
"  you  will  stay  at  home  with  me  to-day,  I  am  not  going 
to  church." 

"  Why  stay  at  home  ?  You  say  your  minister  is  a 
good  preacher,  and  why  should  I  not  go  to  hear  him  .^" 

"  O,  the  people  stare  so  much. at  strangers." 

"  What,  in  the  old  refined  town  of  Cloyne,  and  where 
the  people,  you  say,  are  quite  religious  !  Surely 
they  do  not  go  to  worship  God,  if  they  are  so  prover- 
bial for  staring  at  strangers  that  they  must  be  kept 
away  !"  I  waited  with  bonnet  and  coat  on,  till  the 
bell  ceased,  and  then  inquired,  "  have  the  sisters 
gone  .?" 

"  O  yes,  they  would  not  stay  till  the  services  com- 
menced, because  people  stare  so." 

^'  I  will  make  my  way  alone,"  was  my  answer  ;  and 
the  polite  sexton,  wishing  to  show  a  stranger  all  due 
respect,  escorted  me  through  the  church,  and  showed 
me  into  the  honorable  pew  next  the  throne,  where  the 
two  young  prudes  were  seated,  with  prayer-book  in 
hand,  so  intent  on  their  devotions  that  they  heeded  me 
not,  till  I  called  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs  leading  to 
their  chamber  to  say  "  Good  bye."  The  two  elder 
sisters  had  prepared  me  a  good  dinner,  and  received  me 
on  my  return  with  much  cordiality  ;  and  as  my  visit 
was  now  terminated,  the  eldest  sister  said,  "  You  must 
not  walk  to  Mrs.  Fitzgerald's.  We  have  a  good  jaunt- 
ing-car, and  will  send  our  man  to  convey  you  thither." 
But  listen,  reader  !  The  jaunting-car  proved  to  be  a 
cart,  with  a  bunch  of  oaten  straw  for  a  seat,  and  when 
all  was  equipped,  the  elder  sister  said,  "  We  wish  you 
to  tell  Mrs.  Fitzgerald  that  you  rode  on  our  jaunting- 
car  to  the  lodge  ;  and  be  sure  you  get  off  at  the  lodge, 
and  she  will  not  see  you  !" 

This  was  too  much,  and  indignantly  I  said,  *^  I  won't, 


CHAP.  XV.]  CO.  OF  CORK.  S65 

I  will  not  lie  for  any  one  ;"  ashamed  at  the  silly  pride, 
but  more  at  the  impiety  of  the  eldest,  who  acted  as  mis- 
tress of  the  family,  and  who  ten  minutes  before,  while  at 
my  dinner,  had  been  telling  me  of  her  late  conversion  to 
the  love  of  the  Christian  religion. 

This  was  a  fair  specimen  of  many  such,  started  by 
accident  into  an  estate.  These  daughters  had  lately 
become  heiresses  to  an  inheritance  by  the  death  of  a 
grandfather,  who  having  no  lawful  heir,  left  his  patri- 
mony to  their  father,  his  illegitimate  son.  The  daugh- 
ters, wishing  to  get  into  society  to  which  by  birthright 
they  were  not  entitled,  endeavored  "  by  hook  and  by 
crook"  to  make  up  for  all  deficiencies  of  high  blood, 
which  in  Ireland  is  the  ultimation  of  all  silly  aspirants 
to  nobility.  It  is  not  her  strong  forte,  but  her  weak 
side,  her  silly,  her  effectual  drawback  to  real  excellence, 
especially  in  woman.  The  Irish  women,  were  it  not  for 
this  discrepancy,  would  stand  out  as  a  model  of  all  that 
is  dignified  in  their  sex  ;  for,  wherever  can  be  found  the 
legitimate  possessors  of  princely  birth  and  education, 
there  is  found  a  dignity,  blended  with  the  most  refined 
affability,  which  makes  the  meanest  dependent  feel  she 
is  in  presence  of  a  protector. 

Saying  a  long  and  lasting  adieu,  not  forgetting  the 
absconded  prudes  who  had  kept  themselves  necluded 
from  sight  since  their  return  from  church,  I  ascended 
the  cart,  which  would  have  been  declined  had  not  rain 
and  stiffness,  occasioned  by  climbing  the  tower,  made  it 
imprudent  to  undertake  a  two  miles'  walk.  The  driver, 
true  to  his  trust,  dropped  me  at  a  respectful  distance 
from  the  lodge,  in  sight  of  the  mansion,  which  was  on 
the  top  of  a  hill  in  a  place  called  "  Rock  View."  Here 
was  a  genuine  noble  family,  of  the  true  Irish  race,  of 
olden  blood,  wealthy,  unsophisticated,  unassuming,  and 
condescending.  The  mother,  a  widow,  with  eleven 
children,  all  of  whom  she  had  well  educated,  and  elevated 
to  respectability  in  different  stations  in  life,  v^as  in  the 
midst  of  her  household,  as  the  centre  of  attraction  to 
which  they  were  all  drawn.  With  courtesy  they  re- 
ceived me  as  the  bearer  of  an  introdnctorv  note  from 
12 


266  CO.  OF  CORK.  [chap.  xt. 

a  friend,  and  as  a  stranger.  The  accomplished  sons 
and  daughters  of  this  family  alluded  not  to  any  higher 
lineage  of  their  own  than  the  meanest  peasant.  Their 
religion  was  Roman  Catholic,  but  had  I  not  seen  a 
crucifix  in  the  daughters'  bedroom,  I  should  not  have 
known  it. 

Monday. — I  visited  the  great  rock,  from  which  the 
place  receives  its  name,  and  which  contains  a  valuable 
marble   quarry.     The  laborers,  some  years  since,  had, 
in  excavating   the  rock,  found   caves  of  immense  ex- 
tent, which  are  objects  of  peculiar  interest.     One  into 
which  I    was  shown   had  a   narrow  entrance,  widening 
as  you  advance,  and  in  somewhat   a  ziz-zag   direction, 
until  it  brings  you  into  rooms  ornamented  as  if  done 
by  a  chisel,  these   ornaments   many  of  them    hanging 
from  the  ceiling.     Here   are  seats  like  small  benches  ; 
an  altar  which  had  been  much  defaced  by  the  ruthless 
hands  of  visitors   carrying  away  pieces  of  the  candle- 
stick, &c.     These   chambers  of  imagery  had  been   ex- 
plored to  the  distance,   some  said,  of  a  quarter  of  a 
mile,  by  the   aid  of  a  lantern,  and  no   end  yet  found. 
The  cave,  from  continued  rain,  was  covered  with  three 
feet     of     transparent   water,    which     had     percolated 
through  the  stones,  and  I  could  only  set  my  foot  upon 
the  rough  side,  and  put  in  my  head,  and   sing,  which 
produced  a  long  and  sonorous  echo,  so  that  it  could  be 
heard  at  a  great  distance.     These  caves  altogether  are 
a  wonderful  and  beautiful  curiosity,   and   have  given 
rise  to  a  multitude  of  legends  by  the  superstitious,  and 
are  still  considered   as  sacred,  because  they  have  been 
the  habitation  of  chieftains  and  fugitives  from  justice, 
or  saints  to  do   penance.      The  top  and  sides  of  the 
cave,  in  many  places,  appeared  as  if  icicles  had  been 
formed  and  congealed  upon  the  rock,  lying  in  parallel 
lines,    and  shining  like  polished  ivory.      Nature  cer- 
tainly must  have  been  sitting  alone  and  undisturbed 
for   centuries,  to  have  cut  and   carved  such  a  spacious 
hall. 

But  caves.  Rock  View,  and  the  kind-hearted  Fitz- 
geralds  must  be  left ;    and  I  returned  to  the  house  to 


CHAP.  xv.J  CO.  OF  CORK.  267 


prepare  for  a  departuro.  But  rain  prevented,  and 
another  pleasant  evening  was  passed  with  this  hospita- 
ble family.  Early  in  the  morning  my  breakfast  was  pre- 
pared, a  respectable  carriage  made  ready,  and  I  was  sent 
to  the  steamer,  with  my  passage  paid  to  Cove.  This 
excursion  was  not  a  lost  one.  The  two  families  where  I 
stopped  were  stereotyped  editions  of  every  family  1  had 
then,  or  have  since  seen,  in  like  conditions  throughout 
the  country ;  and  so  marked  are  these  characteristics, 
that  an  observer  need  seldom  mistake,  without  once  in- 
quiring the  pedigree. 

I  must  again  leave  ;  the  constant  adieus  had  become 
quite  painful,  and  I  knew  when  I  should  leave  the 
family  of  Dr.  Power,  that  privations  and  fatigues  must 
attend  me.  My  stay  here  had  been  the  rest  which  was 
needed.  No  bustle  of  parties,  but  a  quiet  calm  sitting 
down  in  the  midst  of  a  well-regulated  family,  where 
peace,  comfort,  and  intelligence  resided;  where  walking, 
reading,  thinking,  talking,  eating,  and  sleeping,  had 
their  appropriate  places.  The  kindness  of  the  people  of 
Cork  will  be  had  in  everlasting  remembrance  ;  it  will 
not  wear  out,  but  grow  brighter  by  use.  I  said  "  good 
morning,"  and  went  out  for  ever  from  the  beautiful 
Cove  of  Cork  ;  leaving  behind  many  a  grateful  remem- 
brance, which  none  but  a  stranger  can  fully  under- 
stand. 

Thursday. — Mrs.  Danker  treated  me  with  a  visit 
to  the  city  and  county  jails,  which  were  so  entirely 
novel  and  intricate  in  their  windings,  that  I  could  not 
describe  them  to  a  stranger.  Perfect  order  and  clean- 
liness prevail.  From  ten  to  five  a  school  is  kept  open 
for  men  and  boys,  whether  criminals  or  debtors  ;  and 
from  twelve  to  two  for  women.  In  the  county  jail  we 
found  but  one  chapel  for  Catholics  and  Protestants, 
where  all  assemble  and  hear  a  Protestant  sermon.  In 
the  city  jail  is  a  chapel  for  each.  The  exterior  of  the 
city  jail  is  beautiful,  built  of  stone  tastefully  arranged. 
The  panes  of  the  windows  were  small,  and  concealed 
the  dismal  appearance  of  the  iron  grates  within.  The 
governor   was   a  man   of  sense    and   feeling,   and   said 


268  CO.  OF  CORK.  [chip.  xv. 

he  often  felt  it  bis  duty  to  mitigate  the  punishment  of 
prisoners,  when  he  found  good  conduct,  and  granted 
them  what  little  indulgences  were  in  his  power.  When 
he  first  took  charge  of  the  institution,  he  found  many 
boys  in  a  room,  quite  happy  with  their  lot  ;  but  putting 
them  in  separate  cells  soon  sobered  them,  and  had  the 
most  salutary  effect ;  for  the  Irish,  he  observed,  have 
a  great  fondness  for  society,  and  a  superstitious  hor- 
ror of  ghosts  and  fairies.  The  number  of  boys,  he  added, 
had  quite  diminished  since  he  made  this  regulation  ; 
but  he  remarked  that  solitary  confinement  for  adults 
was  a  dangerous  and  in  many  cases  a  fatal  punishment ; 
the  minds  of  very  few,  if  any,  could  bear  it  with  safety. 
They  had  sent  him  one,  he  said,  to  be  confined  in  a  soli- 
tary cell  for  a  fortnight,  prohibiting  any  one  to  speak  to 
him  in  the  time.  He  stayed  a  week,  but  so  injured  was 
his  intellect,  that  he  had  no  doubt  another  week  would 
have  made  him  an  idiot.  Where  they  are  ignorant  and 
untutored,  they  had  the  most  dismal  forebodings  and 
dread ;  the  mind  having  nothing  on  which  to  feed,  but 
what  was  of  the  most  gloomy  if  not  of  the  most  frightful 
kind.  A  celebrated  and  experienced  English  judge  has 
declared,  that  he  should  never  sentence  any  to  solitary 
confinement. 

The  prisoners  in  this  prison,  when  not  at  study,  are 
at  work  at  various  mechanical  trades ;  the  women  wash- 
ing, spinning,  and  sewing.  They  have  gardens  and 
beautiful  walks,  where  they  are  allowed  at  stated  times 
to  go  and  recreate  themselves.  The  ridiculous  tread- 
mill, too,  is  a  part  of  the  punishment,  where  three  hours 
I  9  a  day  they  must  step  to  no  available  purpose.  When 
man  takes  punishment  into  his  own  hand,  he  has  so  lit- 
tle of  the  wisdom  of  God  in  the  distribution,  in  the 
quantity  as  well  as  the  quality,  that  he  makes  serious 
and  irreparable  mistakes.  The  barbarous  relic  of  a 
treadmill  is  a  standing  testimony,  that  Christian  nations 
who  practise  it  need  to  learn  the  first  principles  of  civi- 
lization. 

Friday.  —  A  day's  ramble  through  mud  and  rain 
made  me  but  little  wiser  and  no  better,  and  stopping 


CHAP.  XV.]  CO.  OF  CORK.  269 

at  Father  Mathew's  I  dined  with  him  for  the  last  time. 
He  expected  to  leave  town  the  next  day,  and  I  to  do  the 
same,  never  to  return.  I  felt  at  leaving  this  good  man, 
that  I  was  leaving  one  whose  like  I  should  not  meet  in 
any  other  place.  ''  I  hope  to  meet  you  again,"  was  the 
simple  farewell,  with  a  "  God  bless  you."  The  remem- 
brance of  his  unabating  kindness  can  never  die,  and  the 
least  I  can  do  is  to  leave  one  page  in  my  journal  as  a 
just  memorial  of  his  worth.* 

Father  Mathew,  taken  in  the  aggregate,  is  a  cha- 
racter which  must  put  the  finger  of  silence  on  the  lip  of 
even  bigotry  itself.  If  any  one  finds  fault,  it  must  be 
because  his  unceasing  unostentatious  acts  of  goodness 
rebuke  his  own  sluggishness.  He  unites  the  meekness 
of  a  Moses  with  the  unyielding  firmness  of  a  Paul, 
and  while  he  reasons  with  severity  on  temperance,  and 
a  "  judgment  to  come,"  before  a  worldly-minded  Fe- 
lix, he  dashes  in  kind  sprinklings  of  mercy  to  the  re- 
penting prodigal  who  says,  "  Father,  I  have  sinned." 
While  he  shows  "  mercy  with  cheerfulness,"  he  forbears 
not  the  deserved  caution  or  rebuke,  where  the  recipient 
may  have  caused  his  own  sufi"erings  by  imprudence. 
While  the  rich  guest  at  his  table  feels  a  subdued 
respect,  the  poor  feels  he  is  in  presence  of  one  by 
whom  he  is  remembered  with  that  condescending  kind- 
ness', which  narrows  the  awful  gulph  too  often  fixed 
between  the  rich  and  the  poor.  While  universal  praises 
are  falling  on  his  ear,  and  the  multitude  are  saying, 
''  It  is  the  voice  of  a  God  and  not  of  a  man,"  like  the 
angel  before  whom  John  was  about  to  fall  and  worship, 
he  says,  "  See  thou  do  it  not." 

Like  the  eagle,  the  nearer  he  approximates  to  the 
sun,  the  clearer  his  vision,  and  the  less  the  squibbings 
of  the  marksman  affect  him — so,  as  his  heaven-born 
towering  mind  goes  from  glory  to  glory  in  his  lofty 
moral  flight,  the  adulations  and  censures  of  men  die  on 

*  In  my  remarks  on  this  man  I  have  consulted  no  taste,  no 
opinion,  and  no  religion  but  my  own ;  and  if  any  think 
me  a  heretic,  I  can  only  say  •'  what  I  have  written,  I  have 
written-  " 


270  CO.  OF  CORK.  tcHAP.  xv. 

his  ear  like  tlie  echo  of  the  mountain  sportsman,  or 
the  distant  murmur  of  the  waterfall.  When  he  speaks 
in  a  crowd,  it  is  not  that  the  eloquence  of  his  tongue  or 
the  happy  figure  or  turn  of  a  period  may  he  admired  ; 
and  when  the  loud  cheerings  drown  his  voice,  the  light- 
ing up  of  his  countenance  is  not  that  of  inflated  vanity, 
but  a  grateful  manifestation  of  approbation  that  his 
brethren  can  appreciate  the  worth  of  that  cause  which 
lies  so  near  his  heart.  Though  cradled  in  the  lap  of 
affluence,  he  is  as  unostentatious  of  pedigree  as  the 
shepherd  boy,  who  claims  no  descent  beyond  the  thatch- 
ed cabin  that  gave  him  birth.  Though  the  weight  of 
an  intemperate  world  is  rolled  upon  him,  yet  he  forgets 
not  the  wants  of  the  humblest  menials,  nor  suffers  the 
smallest  favor  to  go  unrequited.  Consistency  is  the 
sheet  anchor  which  keeps  all  steady.  His  house,  though 
the  resort  of  the  great  and  noble,  has  no  tawdry  display 
of  finery,  nor  rich  gildings,  serving  only  as  useless  orna- 
ments of  family  greatness.  His  religion  is  truly  catho- 
lic, dealing  no  anathemas  to  the  dissenting  who  may 
differ  from  his  creed  in  belief  or  practice  ;  and  his 
whole  life,  though  one  of  daily  self-denial,  is  an  even 
tenor  of  chastened  patience  and  cheerfulness.  He  has 
wiped  more  tears  from  the  face  of  woman,  than  any 
other  being  on  the  globe,  but  the  Lord  Jesus  ;  and 
thousands  of  lisping  infants  will  bless  the  providence 
that  gave  them  an  existence  in  the  same  age  with  Father 
Mathew.  May  God  give  him  length  of  days,  and  a 
crown  of  glory  in  heaven,  which  shall  shine  as  the  stars 
for  ever  and  ever  ! 

Going  from  Father  Mathew,  I  met  a  kind  lady  at 
whose  house  I  had  spent  a  night,  and  accepted  an  invi- 
tation to  turn  into  a  chapel,  and  hear  a  sermon  by  an 
old  priest  who  was  a  great  favorite  of  hers.  The  sub- 
ject was  the  suffering  of  Christ,  and  the  text,  "  My 
God,  my  God,  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me  P^  In  dis- 
cussing it  he  said,  the  necessity  of  Christ's  sufferings 
consisted  in  the  entire  inability  of  a  self-destroyed  finite 
being  repairing  an  infinite  loss,  and  making  any  atone- 
ment which  could   satisfy  Divine   Justice.     That  a  sin- 


CHAP,  xv.j  CO.  OF  CORK.  271 

ful  being  could  not  do  a  meritorious  act.  That  all  lie 
could  now  do,  he  owed  to  God  before  he  fell,  and  that 
all  and  the  only  hope  of  the  sinner  was  now  the  cross, 
and  warned  all  to  flee  to  the  strong  hold  while  they 
were  "  prisoners  of  hope."  In  conclusion,  he  said  he 
had  in  a  long  life  attended  many  death  beds,  and  the 
lamentations  of  the  sinner  were  not  so  much  that  he 
had  been  an  immoral  man,  as  that  he  had  neglected 
the  "  great  salvation  ;"  that  he  puts  off  the  great  work 
of  repentance  till  to-morrow,  when  salvation  is  offered 
only  to-day.  I  was  not  prepared  to  hear  so  orthodox  a 
sermon  in  Lent,  and  when  I  went  home  mentioned  it 
to  the  Protestant  lady  where  I  lodged,  who  informed 
me  that  this  old  man  was  second  to  none  but  Father 
Mathow  in  alms-deeds,  and  was  considered  a  faithful 
preacher,  even  by  those  who  had  no  fellowship  with  the 
Romish  Church. 

Saturday^  22d. — I  made  preparation  for  leaving 
Cork,  but  the  kind  Mrs.  Fisher  persuaded  me  to  stop 
till  Monday,  and  refused  any  compensation  for  the  long 
time  I  had  been  with  her.  What  shall  I  say  of  the 
kindness  manifested  to  me  in  Cork  ?  This  city  had  not 
lost  its  civilization  by  being  civilized.  In  all  other  large 
towns  in  Ireland  I  had  noticed,  the  more  wealth  and 
show,  the  less  kindness  and  urbanity  of  manners.  Cork 
is  ranked  as  high  or  higher  in  literature  than  any  city  in 
Ireland,  and  its  management  is  quite  under  the  jurisdic- 
tion of  the  Roman  Catholics. 

Monday^  24th. — Go  I  must.  Mrs.  Danker  called, 
and  said,  "  if  possible  I  will  see  you  at  the  coach." 
When  I  arrived,  she  was  in  waiting  with  two  or  three 
other  ladies,  and  when  I  was  snugly  seated  in  the  car- 
riage, she  again  gave  me  her  hand,  putting  into  mine  a 
pound  note.  The  coachman  gave  rae  no  time  to  thank 
her,  and  thus  was  an  additional  debt  of  gratitude  incur- 
red, which  I  shall  never  pay.  A  supply  of  oranges  had 
been  purchased  by  the  ladies,  and  I  was  pursued  by  a 
lad  throwing  them  into  the  coach  for  many  yards  after 
we  had  entered  the  main  street,  to  the  no  small  amuse- 
ment of  the  lookers-on. 


273  CO.  OF  CORK.  [chap.  xv. 

Bandon  was  iny  place  of  destination,  at  least  for  a 
night,  about  twenty  miles  from  Cork  ;  and  with  a  note 
from  Mrs.  Danker  to  a  friend,  who  would  show  me  to 
a  lodging  place,  I  alighted  from  the  coach.  The  dwell- 
ing was  found,  but  I  was  admitted  no  further  than  the 
hall.  The  letter  was  read  and  I  was  pointed  to  a 
house  over  the  way — the  lady  had  no  room  ;  to  another — 
no  room  ;  to  a  third — no  room.  I  returned,  and  stood 
upon  the  steps  of  the  door — no  invitation  to  walk  in. 
The  young  lady  insisted  that  I  should  go  to  a  public- 
house.  In  the  meantime  she  sent  a  boy  to  three  sup- 
posable  cases  :  all  refused.  It  was  now  ten  o'clock. 
The  servant  accompanied  me  to  a  distant  hotel,  where 
I  was  received,  and  left  my  muff  in  pledge  while  I 
returned  to  the  coach  office  for  my  luggage.  The 
keeper  of  the  coach-house  inn  kindly  returned  with 
me,  and  we  were  met  at  the  door  by  a  young  lady,  say- 
ing, "  your  room  is  taken,  and  we  cannot  accommodate 
you." 

I  seriously  feared  my  complaisant  guide  would  take  a 
freak,  when  he  found  that  I  had  utterly  been  refused  by 
so  many,  and  leave  me  to  make  my  way  as  best  I  could. 
But  he  invited  me  to  his  well-regulated  house,  and  I 
stopped  the  next  day  and  night  on  account  of  rain  ;  and 
for  my  vexatious  reception  in  the  town,  he  said  I  should 
pay  nothing  in  Bandon.  This  is  a  handsome  town  of 
about  twelve  thousand  inhabitants ;  formerly  Protes- 
tants, but  now  mostly  Catholics.  It  was  once  famed 
for  the  weaving  of  corduroy  and  tickens,  but  all  have 
gone  down,  leaving  the  town  like  many  of  its  sisters  in 
Ireland,  sitting  idle  without  employment. 

The  inn-keeper  was  an  Englishman,  and  showed  his 
attachment  to  Ireland  by  having  resided  in  it  twenty- 
five  years,  and  marrying  three  Irish  ladies  since  living 
in  the  country,  besides  having  one  buried  in  England. 
The  English,  though  not  the  greatest  admirers  of  Ire- 
land as  a  whole,  yet  seem  to  have  no  objection  to  the 
Irish  ladies  for  wives ;  and  in  this  they  certainly  show 
good  taste. 

Wednesday  morning. — The  town  was  all  in  mourn- 


CHAP.  XV.]  CO.  OF  CORK.  273 

ing  for  the  sudden  death  of  Father  M 'Sweeney,  who 
was  a  favorite  among  Protestants  as  well  as  among 
Romanists.  Shops  were  closed,  and  business  sus- 
pended in  all  parts  of  the  town,  and  the  mourners 
went  about  the  streets.  In  groups  might  be  seen  the 
inhabitants,  talking  of  his  worth,  and  saying  ''  the  like 
of  him  was  not  in  all  Bandon,"  and  "  the  loss  of  him 
will  never  be  made  up."  A  Protestant  observed,  he 
was  a  "  good  adviser  to  his  parish,  and  a  peace-maker 
in  the  town,  and  his  memory  will  long  be  cherished  by 
us  all." 

Taking  a  walk  far  out  of  town,  I  went  into  a 
miserable  cabin,  where  two  old  women  and  their  two 
daughters  were  at  their  wheels,  and  a  third  old  woman 
carding.  This  was  an  unusual  sight,  for  seldom  had  I 
seen,  in  Ireland,  a  whole  family  employed  among  the 
peasantry.  Ages  of  poverty  have  taken  everything 
out  of  their  hands,  but  preparing  and  eating  the 
potatoe  ;  and  they  sit  listlessly  upon  a  stool,  lie  upon 
their  straw,  or  saunter  upon  the  street,  because  no  one 
hires  them. 

These  simple-hearted  women  had  never  seen  an 
American  before,  and  all  work  was  suspended  to  give 
me  a  thorough  greeting,  and  to  examine  every  part  of 
my  clothing  ;  and  when  I  took  the  cards  from  the  old 
woman's  hands,  and  they  saw  I  actually  knew  how  to 
use  them,  "  aw,  God  bless  the  crater,  and  she  aint 
above  her  business."  Seeing  about  my  neck  a  golden 
locket,  which  I  told  them  was  a  memento  of  the  kind- 
ness of  Father  Mathew,  the  old  woman  clasped  it  in 
her  hands  most  affectionately,  with  blessings  upon  my 
head  and  on  that  of  the  "  apostle,"  whose  pledge  she 
had  taken,  and  all  her  family  with  her.  In  every 
cabin  the  name  of  Father  Mathew  is  like  music,  and  in 
the  greater  part  of  Ireland  he  lives  in  the  heart  of  both 
lord  and  peasant.  ^'  Blessing,  blessing  on  your  head, 
the  cratur,"  as  I  left,  was  poured  upon  me,  till  I  was 
well  out  upon  the  street,  *'  ye're  a  right  wonderful 
woman,  and  that  ye  are." 
12* 


274  CO.  OF  CORK.  [chap,  iv 

At  half  past  two  a  farewell  to  the  kind  English- 
man's wife  and  children  was  given,  and  I  was  whirled 
out  of  Bandon,  amid  the  din  of  saucy  idlers,  waiting 
about  the  coach,  and  one  bawled  out,  "  Mistress,  a  six- 
pence, and  ye  owe  me  a  sixpence."  When  I  was  seated 
on  the  coach,  he  had  handed  me  my  basket,  which  was 
standing  near  by,  and  for  this  he  demanded  a  fee.  I 
had  paid  a  porter  for  his  services,  and  this  was  wholly 
an  uncalled-for  supernumerary  The  coaches  and  cars 
make  travelling  one  of  the  greatest  evils  encountered  in 
going  through  the  country.  You  are  teazed  till  you  al- 
low them  to  do  what  you  do  not  wish  to  have  done,  and 
then  abused  if  yoa  do  not  reward  them. 

My  company  was  not  the  most  intelligent,  but  civil ; 
even  declining  smoking  for  my  accommodation,  which 
was  a  mortal  sacrifice  to  an  Irishman  ;  and  had  I  not 
been  an  American,  fear  I  should  have  been  puffed 
most  thoroughly.  A  talkative  old  man  said  he  was 
about  sailing  for  America  with  four  sons,  who  were 
determined  to  go,  and  he  should  take  the  old  woman 
along  with  them,  though  she  was  "  ould  ;"  but  ho 
would  not  have  her  fretting  herself  after  him,  and  "so, 
lady,  w^e  will  go  together."  He  offered  to  find  me 
a  "  dacent  lodging,"  but  left  me  when  we  reached 
Bantry,  to  make  it  out  at  my  leisure.  I  went  into  the 
miserable  coach-ofiice,  and  saw  poverty  and  desolation 
portrayed  in  every  part  of  the  dwelling  where  the 
family  resided.  The  children  were  interesting,  could 
read,  and  giving  them  some  little  books,  I  begged  the 
good  mother  to  direct  me  into  some  comfortable  place, 
as  the  night  was  dark,  and  1  was  a  stranger.  She  sent 
an  intelligent  boy,  who  soon  found  a  genteel  house, 
kept  by  three  sisters  and  a  brother,  as  a  shop  and 
lodging-house.  The  nicely  fitted  parlor  and  bed-room 
were  inviting  retreats,  and  here  may  I  date  the  com- 
mencement of  all  that  was  marvellous — all  that  was 
romantic — all  that  was  painfully  exciting,  and  all  that 
was  wholly  indescribable  in  my  tour  through  Ireland, 
and  I  would  say — 


CO.  OF  CORK.  275 


"  If  you  have  tears,  prepare  to  shed  them  now." 

Come,  sit  down  with  me,  and  weep  over  the  sad  deso- 
lations of  your  stricken  country;  and  while  you  weep, 
reflect,  when  a  righteous  God  shall  make  inquisition  for 
blood,  if  you  have  said,  "be  ye  warmed  and  be  ye 
filled,"  while  the  garment  was  in  your  wardrobe,  the 
bread  upon  your  table,  and  the  word  of  life  upon  your 

shelf what  shall  shelter  your  head  from  the  avenger 

of  the  poor  ? 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

Exploration  in  Bantry— Poverty,  Wretchedness,  and  Filth  of  the  Dwellings- 
Grand  Poorhouse  standing  unoccupied— Wigwam  Row — My  attendant,  John 
— Employment  a  Novelty — Beautiful  Bay  of  Bantry — Glengariff — Bad  choice 
of  a  Lodging-house — A  Motley  Audience — No  Refuge  from  the  Staring — 
Morning  Levee — Lord  Bantry's  Cottage — Hospitality  at  the  Gatehouse—Call 
at  my  ill-chosen  Lodgings. 

When  about  leaving  Cork  for  Killarney  I  intended  tak- 
ing the  shortest  and  cheapest  route ;  but  Father  Ma- 
thew  said,  "  If  you  wish  to  seek  out  the  poor,  go  to  Ban- 
try  ;  there  you  will  see  misery  in  all  and  in  every  form." 
I  took  his  advice,  went  to  Bantry,  and  there  found  a 
wild,  dirty  sea-port,  with  cabins  built  upon  the  rocks 
and  hills,  having  the  most  antiquated  and  forlorn  ap- 
pearance of  any  town  I  had  seen  ;  the  people  going  about 
not  with  sackcloth  upon  their  heads,  for  this  they  could 
not  purchase,  but  in  rags  and  tatters  such  as  no  country 
but  Ireland  could  hang  out. 

The  night  was  dark  and  rainy  when  I  reached  the 
town,  and  a  comfortable  parlor  and  cheerful  fire  hid 
from  my  eyes  the  appalling  desolation  that  brooded 
without.  The  morning  opened  my  eyes  to  look  out 
upon  sights  which,  as  I  write,  flit  before  me  like  hag- 
gard spectres.     I  dressed,  went  forth,  and  made  my  way 


276  CO.  OF  CORK.  [chap.  xvi. 

upon  the  rocks,  found  upon  the  sides  of  them  some  de- 
plorable cabins,  where  smoke  was  issuing  from  the  doors, 
and  looking  into  one,  the  sight  was  appalling-  Like  an 
African  kraal,  the  door  was  so  low  as  to  admit  only  a 
child  of  ten  or  twelve,  and  at  the  entrance  a  woman  put 
out  her  head,  with  a  dirty  cloth  about  it ;  a  stout  pig 
was  taking  its  breakfast  within,  and  a  lesser  one  stood 
waiting  at  a  distance.  The  woman  crouched  over  the 
busy  swine  with  her  feet  in  the  mud,  and  asked  what  I 
wanted  ? 

In  truth,  for  a  moment  I  wanted  time  to  collect 
myself  before  I  knew  what  I  wanted  ;  at  last  I  told 
her  my  errand  was  to  see  how  they  do  in  Ireland, 
among  the  poor.  "  An'  faith,  you  see  enough  on  'em 
here."  Looking  in,  I  saw  a  pile  of  dirty  broken  straw, 
which  served  for  a  bed  for  both  family  and  pigs,  not  a 
chair,  table,  or  pane  of  glass,  and  no  spot  to  sit  except 
upon  the  straw  in  one  corner,  without  sitting  in  mud 
and  manure.  On  the  whole,  it  was  the  most  revolting 
picture  my  eyes  ever  beheld,  and  I  prayed  that  they 
might  never  behold  the  like  again.  Leaving  this 
abode,  I  ascended  the  rock  a  little  higher,  and  entered 
a  second.  On  the  left  hand  of  the  door  was  a  bank  on 
which  lay  a  young  man  upon  straw  ;  and  upon  a 
couple  of  stools  sat  the  master  and  mistress,  waiting 
the  cooking  of  a  pot  of  potatoes  for  breakfast.  "  Is 
any  one  sick  .^"  "  No,  no,  idle,  idle,"  answered  the 
mother ;  "  nothin'  to  do,  and  so  he  lies  in  bed.  The 
old  man  here  has  not  airn'd  but  a  shillin'  since  St. 
John's.''  "  And  how,  do  tell  me,  do  you  live  .'"  "  We 
gets  our  potatoe  when  we  can,  ma'am  ;  and  that's  all, 
ye  see."  "  So  you  live,  because  you  can't  die."  "  Just 
so,  lady ;  because  the  Almighty  God  don't  see  fit  to 
take  us  away,  an'  we  must  be  content  with  what  he 
sends  us ;  but  sure,  may  we  ask,  what  brought  ye  here 
among  these  wild  rocks  .'"  "  To  seethe  poor  of  Ireland  ; 
and  1  hope  to  go  through  the  country,  and  see  them 
all."  "  And  ye'll  have  a  long  purse  when  ye  return." 
Supposing  she  alluded  to  money,  I  told  her,  *'not  a 


CHAP.  XVI.]  CO,  OF  CORK.  277 

pound,  perhaps."     "  But  ye'll  have  the  whole  chart  of 
Ireland,  ma'am." 

I  looked  at  this  woman,  and  at  the  appurtenances 
that  surrounded  her.  "  The  whole  chart  of  Ireland," 
from  lips  that  could  neither  read  English  nor  Irish  !  She 
had  a  noble  forehead,  an  intelligent  eye,  and  a  good 
share  of  common  sense;  she  had  breathed  the  air  of 
this  wild  mountainous  coast  all  her  sad  pilgrimage,  and 
scarcely,  she  said,  had  a  "  decent  garment  covered  her, 
or  a  wholesome  male  of  mate  crossed  her  lips,  save  at 
Christmas,  since  the  day  she  left  her  parents  that 
raired  her."  Telling  them  I  wished  some  one  to  carry 
my  carpet  bag  to  Glengariff,  the  old  man  said  he  had 
a  son  as  honest  as  any  lad  in  Bantry,  and  he  should 
take  it  for  a  shilling  ;  the  bargain  was  quickly  con- 
cluded. A  lofty  well-finished  poorhouse  was  back  of 
these  abodes  of  misery,  and  the  old  lady  leaving  her 
potatoes  showed  me  up  the  slippery  paih-way  to  the 
gate.  She  had  said  there  was  no  fire  but  in  the 
kitchen  and  the  school-mistress'  room  ;  I  replied  that 
this  was  not  the  case  in  any  other  poorhouse  I  had 
visited,  and  I  should  like  to  see  it  for  myself.  When 
we  reached  the  gate  it  was  closed,  and  no  admittance  ; 
the  keeper  was  not  there,  and  not  a  person  in  it,  and 
never  had  been,  though  all  things  had  been  ready  for 
a  year ;  the  farmers  stood  out,  and  would  not  pay  the 
taxes.  The  old  lady  was  right  respecting  the  farmers 
and  their  taxes,  but  was  quite  confused  about  the  fires 
and  fire-places.  The  poorhouse  was  certainly  the 
most  respectable  looking  of  any  building  in  Bantry ; 
and  it  is  much  to  be  regretted,  that  the  money  laid  out 
to  build  and  pay  a  keeper  for  sitting  alone  in  the 
mansion,  had  not  been  expended  in  giving  work  to 
the  starving  poor,  who  might  then  have  had  no  occasion 
for  any  house  but  a  comfortable  cottage. 

I  waded  about  the  town  an  hour  more  to  find,  if 
possible,  something  more  tolerable  ;  but  disheartened 
1  returned  to  my  lodgings,  which  were  the  only  oasis 
in  this  woe-begone  place.  The  next  dry  found  matters 
no  better,  and  after  again  wading  through  a  few  streets, 


278  CO.  OF  CORK.  [chap.  xvi. 

I  returned  disgusted  at  the  nausea,  wliicli  was  sicken- 
ing in  the  extreme.  I  left  an  Irish  Testament  where 
the  man  of  the  family  could  read  Irish  well,  and  where 
no  Bible  had  ever  been.  The  peasants  in  this  part  of 
the  country  are  not  so  afraid  of  the  Scriptures  if  they 
speak  Irish,  because  they  attach  a  kind  of  sanctity  to 
this  language. 

The  next  morning  looked  a  little  propitious,  and  I 
hurried  to  Wigwam  Row,  to  apprise  the  boy  that  he 
must  take  his  potatoes,  and  be  ready  for  the  journey.* 

This  Wigwam  Row  is  entitled  to  a  little  explanation. 
It  consists  of  a  row  of  cabins,  built  literally  upon  a 
rock,  upon  the  sloping  side  of  a  hill,  where  not  a 
vestige  of  grass  can  grow,  the  rock  being  a  continued 
flat  piece  like  slate.  The  favored  ones  who  dwell 
there  pay  no  rent,  having  been  allowed  in  the  season 
of  the  cholera  to  go  up  and  build  these  miserable  huts, 
as  the  air  upon  the  hill  was  more  healthy.  And  there, 
like  moss,  to  the  rocks  have  they  clung,  getting  their 
job  when  and  where  they  can,  to  give  them  their 
potatoes  once  in  a  day,  which  is  the  most  any  of  them 
aspire  to  in  the  shortest  winter  days. 

I  found  them  still  in  their  nest',  and  after  much 
beating  and  battering  at  the  crazy  door,  the  old  man 
peeped  out,  calling,  "  Who's  there  ?  and  won't  it  do  as 
well  for  me  to  go?"  ''  I  have  no  choice,"  replied  I. 
''  And  will  ye  get  breakfast  on  the  way  .^"  This  was 
a  modest  hint  that  I  should  give  him  breakfast,  though 
it  had  been  adjusted  that  he  should  take  his  before  we 
left.  "  I  shall  return  and  take  mine,  and  you  must 
take  yours  at  home  in  the  meantime."  1  said  this  to 
keep  him  to  his  bargain,  intending  to  give  him  some 
when  he  should  call.  "  In  an  hour,"  said  the  old  man, 
"  I  will  be   with  ye."     The  hour  had  not  expired  when 

*  I  could  not  but  say  when  standing  on  this  spot,  "  How  long, 
O  Lord,  how  long"  can  such  dreadful  sufferings — such  odious  filth 
be  allowed  upon  a  world  like  this !  Sure  some  volcano,  some 
hailstone,  or  some  fire,  some  overflowing  flood,  some  miasma,  or 
some  earthquake,  must  obliterate  them  from  sight,  and  "  that  right 
early." 


CHAP.  XVI.]  CO.  OF  CORK.  279 

the  old  man  was  at  the  door,  with  "  We  had  better 
take  the  airly  part  of  the  day."  He  had  not  stopped 
for  his  potatoe,  and  more  than  probably  he  had  none, 
and  must  get  the  shilling  before  the  potatoes  could 
come.  Dividing  the  breakfast  with  the  old  man,  I 
hurried  through  mine,  and  the  wallet  with  all  appurte- 
nances was  swung  upon  a  stick,  and  snugly  adjusted 
upon  the  back  of  my  fellow  pedestrian.  The  modest 
sisters  wished  all  prosperity,  giving  a  smile  as  they 
saw  us  go  out.  Men,  women,  and  children  had  watched 
the  movements  of  John,  and  met  us  upon  the  walk  as 
an  escort.  "-'John,  which  way.^  and  what  now.^  sure 
and  ye  aint  goin'  to  lave  us  .^"  John  was  a  man  of 
some  independence,  and  a  little  tact  withal ;  and  he 
managed  to  let  them  know  by  a  slight  toss  of  the  head, 
and  a  significant  look,  that  he  was  about  business 
which  interested  the  parties  concerned,  and  should 
give  account  of  none  of  his  matters.  Ludicrous  as  the 
scene  might  be,  and  playful  as  seemed  their  jokes,  yet 
the  real  truth  was  affecting — John  was  about  to  earn 
a  few  pence,  and  the  favor  was  a  great  and  enviable 
one.  They  had  looked  and  sauntered  about  the  mise- 
rable town  for  days  and  weeks,  for  such  a  boon,  in 
vain,  and  now  the  lucky  John  had  drawn  the  prize  ! 

We  soon  left  sight  of  Bantry,  for  mud  retarded  not 
my  progress,  and  we  hurried  on  to  the  no  small  amaze- 
ment of  all  we  met,  who  in  multitudes  were  going  to 
town  for  market.  But  the  Bay  of  Bantry — the  bay  of 
all  bays,  stretched  out  on  our  left  with  its  islands, 
and  the  rugged  rocks  on  our  right,  so  attracted  my 
notice,  that  what  with  gaping  on  either  hand,  and 
looking  now  and  then  how  to  avoid  the  mud,  my 
gallant  John  would  be  far  before  me.  He  would  often 
sit  down  upon  a  wall,  till  I  was  within  speaking 
distance,  then  giving  the  wallet  a  further  hitch  upon 
his  shoulder,  would  rise  and  hasten  on,  thus  not 
leaving  me  a  moment  for  rest.  At  last  I  contrived  to 
lighten  my  burden,  by  taking  my  huge  black  muff, 
which  was  quite  the  gaze  of  men  and  ivomen,  as  well 
as  the  fright  of  all  the  children,  in  mountain  and  glen, 


CO.  OF  CORK.  [chap.  ivr. 


and  drawing  it  up  closely  at  one  end,  so  that  the  Irish 
Testaments  that  were  in  it  could  ride  safely,  I  called 
to  the  old  man,  and  begged  him  to  allow  me  to  fasten 
the  muff  to  his  wallet,  as  the  day  was  getting  warm, 
and  it  quite  impeded  my  travelling.  Hanging  at  one 
end,  and  being  large  and  made  of  the  fur  of  the  black 
bear  of  the  American  forest,  it  made  John  an  object  of 
still  greater  interest  to  the  wondering  peasantry,  who 
all  seemed  to  be  cjuite  acquainted  with  him.  He  was 
born  on  one  of  the  islands  of  the  bay,  and  had  lived 
all  his  days  vvithin  the  sound  of  its  waters.  "  And 
what  is  this,  John  ?  and  what  sort  may  the  cratur  be 
that's  hanging  at  your  back  ?" 

I  now  succeeded  in  keeping  pace  with  my  guide  for 
a  time,  and  by  dint  of  management  kept  John  in 
tolerable  mood.  He  would  now  and  then  mutter  out 
that  the  place  was  a  "  devil  of  a  starved  one,  that  not 
a  hap'orth  couldbegot  if  the  heart  was  broke."  Taking 
the  hint,  I  presented  him  with  a  piece  of  bread  from 
my  ^muff,  which  appeased  for  a  little  his  clamor,  and 
we  pursued  our  journey  amicably  together.  But  no 
happiness  is  unalloyed.  On  a  sudden,  a  terrible  crash 
was  heard,  and  lo  !  the  handle  of  the  basket  had  given 
w^ay.  Out  tumbled  books,  VVicklow  pebbles,  &:c.,  and  a 
complete  overturning  of  all  the  contents  of  the  wallet 
took  place.  With  strings  and  pins,  matters  were  again 
adjusted  in  a  tolerably  good  way  ;  but  John,  in  fasten- 
ing all  together,  had  the  shrewdness  so  to  manage  that 
the  muff  was  again  turned  over  to  me.  Drawing  near 
the  town,  a  cabin  of  tolerable  appearance  met  our  eyes, 
and  the  tidiness  of  the  abode  was  now  held  out  to  me 
as  a  bait.  "  She  can  give  as  clane  a  bed  as  any  woman 
in  the  kingdom."  I  heeded  not,  till  the  hotel  of 
Glengariff  burst  upon  our  view.  Here  the  praises 
were  redoubled — "  Ye'd  find  every  convanience,  and 
as  chape  as  any  lodgin'-house  in  all  the  country."  I 
had,  before  leaving  Bantry,  been  told  there  was  a 
private  lodging  that  would  serve  me  better  than  the 
hotel,  and  I  determined  if  possible  to  spend  thf  Sab- 


CHAP,  xvi.j  CO.  OF  CORK.  2«1 

bath  there.  It  was  a  sad  mistake.  John  was  the  bet- 
ter judge,  and  should  have  been  obeyed. 

The  lodging-house  at  length  appeared,  and  before  a 
filthy  door  were  horses,  men,  and  asses  in  thick  array. 
John  with  his  wallet  squeezed  through,  and  I  followed 
before  the  passage  was  closed.  "  This  is  the  way, 
ma'am,"  leading  me  up  to  a  dark  whiskey  deposit, 
entered  by  a  hole  a  few  feet  high.  In  this  place  stood 
a  dirty  woman  pouring  muddy  coffee  into  bowls,  and 
sending  it  to  a  mass  of  ragged  countrymen,  who  were 
drinking  it  without  milk.  She  was  occasionally  inter- 
rupted by  a  call  for  hot  punch  ;  "  Going,  going,"  was 
the  answer,  and  going  they  were  in  very  deed.  This 
lodging  was  the  height  and  depth  of  all  that  I  had  seen 
in  depravity.  "Can  I  have  some  boiling  water  .^" 
"  When  the  men  are  sarved,  ma'am."  John  had  seated 
himself  on  a  bench,  quietly  smoking,  past  all  hurry, 
though  in  the  greatest  haste  for  the  last  three  hours. 
Saying  to  him,  as  he  was  in  fear  of  night,  he  had  better 
take  a  loaf  of  bread,  and  not  wait  for  the  kettle. 
"  Aw,  I'll  wait  for  the  kettle,  plaise  God."  The  kettle 
came,  a  bowl  of  cocoa  and  a  loaf  of  bread  were  soon 
dispatched.  "  Take  care  of  yourself  and  your  things, 
ma'am,  or  ye'll  not  have  a  hap'orth  belonging  to  ye," 
he  whispered  as  he  went  out. 

When  John  was  sitting  upon  the  wall,  eating  a  piece 
of  bread,  by  the  way,  I  asked,  "  do  you  expect  to  go 
to  heaven  .'"  "  No,  ma'am,  I  shall  never  go  to  heaven. 
The  poor,  ma'am,  are  great  sinners,  and  must  not  ex- 
pect to  go  there."  "  The  poor  will  certainly  go  to 
heaven,  if  they  repent."  He  still  insisted,  "  the  poor 
are  very  wicked,  and  must  not  expect  to  go  there. 
No,  no,  ma'am,  I  shall  not  get  there."  As  he  was 
departing,  I  said,  "John,  I  shall  see  you  no  more,  and 
I  beg  you  to  go  to  Christ,  and  be  saved."  He  paused, 
resting  on  his  stick  ;  then  giving  me  a  piercing  glance 
of  desponding  bitterness,  he  shook  his  head,  and 
answered  emphatically,  "  that  can  never  be  for  me." 
What  had  so  firmly  fixed  this  opinion,  1  could  not  nor 
can  I  imagine,  for  it  seems  to  be  the  prevailing  conso- 


28-2  CO.  OF  CORK.  [chap.  xyi. 

latory  belief  of  the  peasantry  in  Ireland,  that  the  poor 
are  in  a  much  better  way  for  heaven  than  the  rich,  and 
they  bear  their  poverty  often  with  great  patience, 
because  they  shall  soon  be  better  situated.  Not  so  with 
John.  His  mind  had  been  differently  trained,  and 
though  he  seemed  fixed  in  his  belief,  he  made  it  a  duty 
to  submit  to  his  fate.  I  felt  regret  at  parting  with  this 
ignorant  old  man,  for  though  not  skilled  in  books,  he 
was  a  shrewd  child  of  nature,  and  had  been  for  half  a 
day  a  more  amusing  and  profitable  companion,  than  a 
college  dandy,  "  fresh  from  the  mint,''  could  have 
been. 

I  stepped  back  into  the  room,  and  for  a  few  moments 
gave  the  gaping  multitude  full  scope  for  curiosity. 
They  stood  before  me,  they  sat  down  by  my  side, 
they  minutely  examined  my  dress,  they  asked  all  sorts 
of  questions  concerning  America, — "  an'  may  be  ye 
didn't  know  Mick  Flanagan,  or  Pat  Dogherty.  An', 
by  dad,  she's  a  dacent  body,  and  she  never  come  the 
long  way  without  a  good  bit  in  her  purse,"  &c.  When 
the  wonder  began  to  flag,  I  put  my  luggage  into  the 
care  of  the  hostess,  and  went  out  to  wander  in  the  glen, 
and  by  chance  came  upon  an  old  bridge,  quite  decay- 
ed, which  is  said  to  have  been  constructed  by  Crom- 
well to  march  his  army  over  when  he  wasted  Ire- 
land. The  arches  are  still  standing,  and  a  foot- 
path is  over  them,  which  has  been  crossed  by  every 
tourist  in  the  glen  for  a  century  or  more.  The  name 
of  Cromwell  by  every  peasant  of  Ireland  is  of  hated 
memory,  and  scarcely  a  decayed  castle,  bridge,  or 
abbey,  but  what  the  stranger  is  told,  "  this  is  the  doin' 
of  the  blackguard  Cromwell."  Finding  a  cabin,  which 
from  its  size  and  appendages  bore  some  signs  of  com- 
fort, I  ventured  in,  hoping  something  a  little  tolerable 
■  might  meet  my  eyes.  But  ^'  four-footed  beasts,"  if  not 
"  creeping  things,"  were  here  stalled  and  fed,  and  the 
people  were  of  the  same  kin  with  the  house  I  had  left. 
I  made  my  way  upon  the  top  of  the  rocks  overlooking 
Bantry  Bay,  with  a  troop  of  ragged  urchins  in  pur- 
f^uit,   and  a  young  spruce  dandy,  who   told  me  all  he 


CHAP.  xYi.J  CO.  OF  CORK.  283 

knew  of  the  marvellous  till  the  dusk  of  evening  warned 
me  back  to  my  luggage  and  lodging.  I  recoiled  at  go- 
ing in. 

Ascending  a  rock  overlooking  the  road,  I  had  a  view 
of  things  if  not  unutterable,  yet  cjuite  inconceivable. 
Beneath  me  were  a  group  darkening  the  street  and  air, 
of  all  ages,  from  "  the  man  of  grey  hairs"  to  the  nurs- 
ling at  the  mother's  breast.  Not  an  individual,  man, 
woman,  or  child,  had  on  a  whole  garment,  and  many 
of  them,  like  "  JosejDh's  coat,"  were  variegated  with 
"  many  colors ;"  patches  of  all  shades,  with  thread  of 
all  hues,  adorned  the  limbs  of  these  congregated 
rustics,  who  had  heard  of  my  arrival,  and  had  come 
out  to  see  the  "  wonderful  body"  that  had  left  her 
"  country  and  kin  to  say  the  poor  Irish."  Looking 
down  upon  them,  my  "  eyes  affected  my  heart."  They 
were  God's  creatures,  made  in  his  image,  and  bound  to 
the  same  tribunal  with  me ;  thrown  into  different 
circumstances,  they  had  developed  different  traits, 
and  many  among  them  might  have  occupied  better 
upon  the  little  that  had  been  given,  than  the  more 
elevated  aristocrat  who  looked  down  upon  them  with 
contempt.  They  looked  up,  some  leaning  upon  their 
spades,  some  crouching  under  heavy  burdens,  and  all 
silent  as  if  waiting  the  opening  of  some  oracle. 
Singing  a  hymn  in  which  all  instinctively  joined,  if  not 
devoutly,  I  said  a  few  kind  words  on  the  subject  of 
temperance,  and  the  regret  I  felt  that  I  should  find 
this  glen  given  to  the  immorality  of  drinking,  when  a 
great  part  of  Ireland  had  become  so  sober.  They 
murmured  a  response — "  by  dad,  she's  right,"  and 
slowly  walked  on,  while  I  descended  to  enter  the. 
lodging.  I  felt  myself  in  a  peculiar  predicament,  no 
escaping  from  this  forbidding  stopping-place,  and  these 
forbidding  people ;  it  was  a  place  and  company  quite 
different  from  any  I  had  seen  even  in  Connaught.  I 
was  pursued  into  the  lodging-house,  and  went  through 
a  second  and  more  fiery  ordeal  of  staring.  They  came 
nearer,  urged  me  to  "  smoke  a  blast,"  or  to  "  take  a 
drap,"    (notwithstanding    my   lecture,)   talked    of   my 


284  CO.  OF  CORK.  [chap.  xvi. 

coat  and  bonnet ;  some  bracing  themselves  against  the 
wall,  some  sitting  close  by  my  side,  and  others  squat- 
ting upon  the  ground  at  my  feet.  Fortunately  for  me, 
the  organ  of  fear  is  not  so  largely  developed  as  in 
some  of  more  flexible  texture,  and  my  greatest  sufi"ering 
arose  from  pity  and  disgust.  "Can  you  give  me  a 
few  potatoes  .^"  Four  were  brought  in  a  saucer,  and 
some  dirty  salt,  pulverised  with  a  knife,  and  likewise 
put  in  a  saucer.  The  company  were  all  in  attendance 
till  the  supper  was  ended.  Hoping  to  thin  the  group 
in  some  way,  I  asked  for  water  to  bathe  my  feet.  A 
little  was  brought  in  a  pot,  and  placed  before  me.  "  I 
cannot  use  it  here.  Put  it  in  the  room,"  was  the  com- 
mand. 

"  The  room  !"  Reader,  suppose  you  look  in.  This 
room  was  up  a  broken  stair-case,  leading  from  the 
kitchen.  A  dilapidated  door  with  a  broken  latch,  like 
an  inn  among  the  far  western  wilds  of  America  ;  a 
floor  of  loose  boards,  gaping  wide  between  joints  into 
the  kitchen  below ;  and  all  sorts  of  lumber,  from  the 
three-legged  chair,  broken  chest,  and  crazy  cradle,  to 
the  ploughshare,  with  the  worn-out  gear  of  the  ass, 
and  basket  for  peat  and  manure.  The  bed  and 
etceteras  are  unmentionable,  and  in  this  varied  pro- 
fusion I  was  to  spend  the  night.  As  my  door  was 
past  all  fastening,  a  company  at  whiskey  and  cards,  in 
a  chamber  "  near  akin,"  at  every  pause  in  the  whiskey 
or  play,  would  in  turn  push  my  door  a  little  wider,  and 
look  in.  This  continued  till  one  o'clock,  when  I, 
still  sitting,  knew  by  the  "  God  bless  you's,"  and 
"  ye'll  be  late  for  the  night,"  that  the  company  were 
retiring,  and  placed  myself  in  a  position  to  sleep,  had 
sleep  been  in  attendance.  But  sleep  or  no  sleep,  the 
Sabbath  dawned  pleasantly  on  this  wicked  den,  and  I 
hoped  to  be  first  in  the  kitchen  ;  but  to  my  chagrin  a 
goodly  number  were  in  waiting,  and  in  ten  minutes 
from  my  landing  at  the  bottom  of  the  stairs,  not  less 
than  a  score  had  arranged  themselves,  making  sure  of 
a  suitable  stand  or  sit,  where  the  most  favorable  gape 
could    be    secured.     Nor    had   one  wasted   a  precious 


CHAP.  XVI.]  CO.  OF  CORK.  285 

moment  too  long  at  the  toilet.  Some  stood  with  hair 
erect,  some  with  an  apology  for  a  shirt,  and  some  with 
remnants  of  coats  ;  some  with  waistbands  sufficiently 
strong  to  hold  both  hands  and  despairing  legs,  hang- 
ing with  a  deadly  grasp  by  a  tatter  here  and  there  ; 
some  with  dresses  turned  over  their  heads,  and  some 
pinned  about  their  waists ;  some  with  cloaks,  and  some 
with  caps,  and  all  with  naked  feet.  They  had  all  got 
most  quietly  fixed,  when  I  gathered  up  my  effects,  put 
them  in  charge  of  the  girl,  and  hurried  into  the  glen, 
stopping  neither  to  warn  nor  rebuke. — A  morning  long  to 
be  remembered. 

Being  told  there  was  no  church  held  in  the  place, 
and  that  Lord  Bantry  was  a  Protestant,  lord  or  no 
lord,  I  determined  to  venture  to  his  house,  and  if 
possible  spend  the  day  with  him.  "  He's  a  convairsa- 
ble  body,  and  he'll  make  ye  right  welcome,"  said  one 
that  I  passed  on  the  way.  At  the  gate-house,  the 
cleanly  woman  met  me  at  the  door,  and  kindly  invited 
me  in  to  take  breakfast.  This  unexpected  courtesy  was 
more  to  me  than  she  imagined  or  I  could  express,  for  I 
had  expected  to  spend  the  day  fasting,  probably  among 
the  rocks  in  the  glen,  unless  by  good  fortune  the  '*  con- 
vairsable  "  lord  should  be  pacific.  The  neat  little  cot- 
tage, and  cleanly-spread  table,  were  such  a  contrast  to 
the  den  I  had  just  left,  that  I  felt  that  "  mercy  had 
not  clean  gone  for  ever,"  and  I  was  still  within  the 
reach  of  something  human.  Breakfast  being  ended,  a 
little  girl  was  sent  with  me  to  the  top  of  a  high  rock, 
in  view  of  the  cottage  called  Lord  Bantry's  ''  look- 
out," from  which  the  wonders  of  the  glen  are  seen  to 
good  advantage.  Descending  the  rock,  the  little  Mary 
returned  to  prepare  for  chapel,  and  I  ventured  to  the 
cottage  of  Lord  Bantry.  It  had  a  picturesque  thatched 
roof  in  part,  and  was  situated  in  a  lawn  free  from  rocks, 
sufficient  to  distinguish  it  as  the  abode  of  the  "  lord  of 
the  soil." 

This  valley  of  romantic  wildness  cannot  be  de- 
scribed. To  attempt  a  description  of  Glengarifi"  would 
be  a  v^aste  of  words.     Writers  of  different  nations  have 


286  CO.  OF  CORK.  [chap.  xvi. 

told  of  its  eagles'  nests  ;  its  huge  rocks  flung  together 
in  all  shapes,  overgrown  with  moss  and  ivy  ;  its  lakes, 
rivers,  and  streamlets,  its  deep  ravines  and  lofty  moun- 
tains And  yet  Glengariff  can  never  he  understood  but 
by  actual  observation  ;  by  walking  or  riding,  by  every 
mode  that  ever  man  invented,  with  spy-glass  and  tele- 
scope has  it  bsen  explored,  and  yet  beauties  and  won- 
ders remain  untold. 

I  sent  my  card  in  to  the  noble  lord  ;  and  he  re- 
turned it  by  the  hunch-backed  girl  in  attendance,  who 
civilly  said  his  lordship  was  quite  ill,  was  sorry  he 
could  not  see  me,  but  would  send  a  boy  to  show  me 
the  curiosities  of  the  glen.  This  was  not  the  most 
desirable  nor  the  most  profitable  way  to  spend  the 
Sabbath,  but  stay  in  the  whiskey-house  I  had  left, 
I  would  not,  and  from  the  gate  where  I  breakfasted 
the  family  had  gone  to  mass,  and  locked  the  cottage. 
I  followed  the  boy,  who  took  me  an  intricate  path, 
and  stationed  me  before  the  game-keeper's  lodge,  and 
seated  me  upon  a  stone.  The  game-keeper's  wife 
invited  me  into  a  neat  little  parlor,  and  showed  me 
everything  of  interest  about  the  mountain.  She  was 
English,  and  quite  unreconciled  to  stop  in  Ireland. 
She  was  getting  a  Sabbath  dinner,  and  showed  me  her 
bee-hives  ;  and  here  I  tried  the  strength  of  her  hospi- 
tality. Having  been  told  that  the  English  in  Ireland 
were  not  so  courteous  to  strangers  as  the  Irish,  I  made 
a  trial  by  saying,  I  had  been  told  in  New  York  that 
Ireland  abounded  in  honey,  but  I  had  not  had  the 
good  fortune  to  meet  any,  and  I  was  quite  fond  of  it. 
She  made  no  reply,  nor  offered  me  either  milk,  bread, 
or  honey.  I  have  since  met  with  many  English  who 
were  exceedingly  hospitable,  and  hope  I  may  have  no 
just  cause  of  complaint  against  my  ancestors,  with  whom 
I  am  happy  to  claim  affinity.  When  I  reached  the  lodge, 
the  hospitality  was  repeated  by  the  generous  offer  of  a 
room  and  board  without  any  charges.  What  could  be 
kinder,  and  what  could  be  cheaper  ? 

*'  The  house  where  you  stayed  last  night  is  not  fit  for 
any  human    creature,  and    you    cannot  be  in  a  worse 


CHAP.  XVI.]  CO.  OF  CORK.  287 

condition  in  any  spot  in  the  glen."  *'  Blessed  are  the 
merciful."  This  family  were  English,  had  lived  in 
Ireland  twenty-five  years,  and  had  become  so  identi- 
fied in  every  way  with  the  country,  that  they  pre- 
ferred it  to  their  own  ;  and  no  stranger  could  suppose 
by  their  phraseology  or  warmth  of  heart,  but  that  they 
were  of  the  genuine  stock  of  Irish.  They  were  Roman 
Catholics. 

Two  days'  rain  kept  me  in  the  house,  only  giving 
opportunity  for  a  call  at  the  Saturday  night's  lodging- 
place  to  take  my  luggage.  The  man  and  his  wife  were 
taking  breakfast  at  eleven  o'clock.  He  was  a  pledge- 
breaker,  and  she  a  professed  tetotaler,  only  taking 
her  hot  punch  when  going  to  bed,  and  he  a  besotted 
drunkard.  When  I  told  them  why  I  left  the  house,  and 
represented  to  her  the  disgrace  and  sin  of  her  employ- 
ment, she  left  her  bowl  of  tea,  and  went  away.  He 
hastily  arose,  and  took  down  a  large  Douay  Bible  from 
a  dirty  shelf,  over  the  kegs  of  whiskey,  and  only  wanted 
time  to  "  discoorse  me,"  to  show  both  his  knowledge  of 
scripture,  and  the  lawfulness  of  his  employment.  "  Dea- 
con Giles'  distillery"  could  not  have  shown  greater  zeal. 
This  wicked  house  had  been,  I  was  told,  the  ruin  \of  the 
glen.  It  had  been  five  years  before  baptized  by  Father 
Mathew,  but  he  then  gave  pledges  for  a  stated  period, 
when  requested,  and  when  the  time  had  expired,  many 
rushed  headlong  into  the  fatal  vortex.  ^'They  are  too 
much  for  me,"  said  the  poor  priest,  "  since  that  publi- 
can's house  has  been  opened." 


288  CO.  OF  CORK.  [chap.  xvii. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


Rambles  in  Glengariff— Household  Manure— Kind  Little  Guide— A  Gallant 
Offer — Splendid  Interior  of  the  Slated  House — A  Rare  and  Lofty  Larder — 
Perilous  Transit — Wild  Natives — Dwelling  of  the  Three  Sisters — Spiritual 
Fallow  Ground — Man  sometimes  behind  the  Lower  Animals — The  Author  de- 
livers a  Short  Sermon — Good-bye  to  GlengariflF  and  the  Hospitable  Family  of 
the  Ga  ekeeper — Lakes  and  Mountains — Publican  versus  Priest — Ride  among 
Turf  Baskets— Early  Matrimony. 


Hearing  there  was  a  Protestant  school  in  a  distant 
part  of  the  glen,  with  the  guidance  of  the  little  "  sure 
futted''  niece  of  my  benefactress,  I  made  my  way 
thither.  On  our  route  we  passed  a  couple  of  rocks, 
celebrated  for  having  been  the  abode  of  a  family  of 
seven  for  three  years  and  a  half.  Lord  Bantry  at  last 
built  them  a  cabin,  and  turned  them  into  it.  This 
novel  habitation  is  composed  of  two  rocks,  meeting 
over  head,  like  the  roof  of  a  house,  and  so  wide  at  bot- 
tom that  there  was  room  for  a  bed-stead.  A  fire  was 
built  by  the  side  of  the  rock  inside — "  As  all  the  world 
might  see,"  the  smoke  issuing  from  the  apertures  at 
either  end,  according  to  the  whim  of  the  wind.  The 
upper  ends  of  the  rocks  are  so  snugly  joined,  that  they 
could  be  closed  with  leaves  and  brush,  as  the  occupants 
might  choose.  It  seemed  impossible  that  the  room 
could  contain  seven  living  moving  beings,  with  "  all  ap- 
purtenances to  boot ;"  but  so  it  did.  The  good  woman 
was  often  heard  singing  at  her  wheel  in  front  of  her 
house,  where  she  sat  spinning  by  the  side  of  a  clear 
stream,  under  branches  of  evergreens,  while  her  five 
ruddy  children  were  playing  around  her.  Many  a 
passer-by,  on  his  way  through  the  glen,  turned  in  "  to 
see  this  great  sight,"  and  left  a  little  in  charity,  which 
kept  these  happy  tenants  more  than  content ;  for  it  is 
said  they  were  quite  unwilling  to  leave  when  the  man- 
built-cabin  was  in  readiness. 


CHAP.  XVII.]  CO.  OF  CORK.  289 

Our  path  was  over  rocks,  through  mud  and  bogs, 
till  we  reached  the  abode  of  the  Protestant  teacher, 
who  was  sick,  consequently  her  school  was  suspended. 
She  had  two  infants,  the  youngest  two  days  old,  and  was 
livino;  in  the  house  of  her  husband's  mother.  Thouorh 
they  could  boast  of  Protestant  rearing  in  the  town  of 
Bandon,  and  were  comfortable  in  land  and  cattle,  yet 
the  cabin  was  a  genuine  dirty  one,  bearing  the  same 
marks  of  degradation  as  their  less  enlightened  neigh- 
bors. The  teacher  showed  some  specimens  of  needle- 
work, which  were  quite  creditable,  and  conversed  with 
a  share  of  good  sense  ;  but  the  impress  of  the  virtuous 
woman,  "  who  looketh  well  to  the  ways  of  her  house- 
hold," was  not  there.  She  had  five  pounds  a  year  for 
teaching,  three  of  which  were  paid  by  a  Protestant 
society,  the  other  two  by  the  parents  of  the  children. 
It  certainly  told  much  for  her  philanthropy,  to  go  upon 
this  desolate  mountain,  and  "  do  what  she  could"  for 
the  benefit  of  the  wild  mountaineers,  for  such  a  scanty 
remuneration. 

A  bowl  of  stirabout,  glowing  in  melted  butter,  was 
presented  by  the  mother,  but  I  was  not  competent  to 
the  undertaking.  With  much  difficulty  I  persuaded 
her  to  allow  me  to  take  my  own  way,  for  I  had  long 
since  been  so  divested  of  sectarianism,  that  Protestant 
filth  was  no  more  palatable  than  Roman  Catholic.  I 
here  speak  plainly,  because  neither  the  scantiness  of 
their  means  nor  cabin  made  such  intolerable  house- 
keeping necessary.  We  then  visited  a  national  school, 
and  here  was  a  picture  deserving  a  glen.  A  female 
teacher  first  saluted  us,  with  a  company  of  girls  before 
her,  plying  the  needle.  "  I  taiches  sowin',  ma'am,  and 
they  gets  along  finely,"  presenting  shirts  they  were 
making.  "But  do  you  give  no  other  lessons.^"  "I 
doesn't,  ma'am  ;  they  can  go  to  the  master  if  they 
wishes  to  larn  raidin',  but  they  says  they  bee's  too 
old." 

The  master  was  busy  at  his  desk,  his  cap  put  on 
with  quite  an  air  of  dandyism,    and   the  sly  urchins 
were  cutting  and  carving  for  themselves.     At  last  the 
13 


290  CO.  OF  CORK.  [chap.  xtii. 

stripling  approached,  welcomed  me  very  civilly,  and 
added,  "  I  am  quite  ill,  am  but  young,  and  have  mucli 
to  learn  before  I  can  expect  a  great  salary."  This  was 
good  sense.  His  salary  did  not  exceed  ten  pounds. 
In  short,  the  school,  as  a  whole,  was  such  a  place  as 
every  child  should  shun.  A  boisterous  altercation 
took4)lace  between  the  master  and  mistress  about  the 
key  of  the  closet,  she  insisting  she  would  carry  it 
home,  as  she  should  be  first  in  the  morning,  and  want 
the  work  ;  he  protesting  for  that  very  reason  he  would 
not  allow  it,  because  he  had  articles  that  were  valu- 
able to  him,  and  they  should  not  be  disturbed.  She 
threatened  to  acquaint  the  priest.  "The  sooner  the 
better,  and  ye'll  find  ye're  talking  to  a  man  of  sense." 
The  children  of  the  master,  and  girls  of  the  mistress, 
manifested,  by  the  lighting  up  of  the  countenance, 
that  each  was  ready  to  fight  for  his  or  her  own  general ; 
and  we  left,  never  learning  how  the  battle  was  de- 
cided. 

Thursday. — Going  out  to  call  at  the  hotel,  I  turned 
into  a  bye-path,  and  seeing  a  row  of  cabins,  went  to 
one,  supposing  I  could  take  a  nearer  route  than  the 
public  road,  by  inquiring  the  way.  Putting  in  my 
head,  I  saw  misery  doubly  distilled.  I  at  first  was 
met  by  two  yearling  calves,  and  there  being  no  window 
in  the  cabin,  I  could  not  well  see  into  the  interior, 
and  concluded  that  it  was  nothing  less  or  more  than  a 
cowhouse.  But  perseverance  showed  me  it  was  the 
abode  of  six  full-grown  mortals,  master,  mistress, 
and  four  daughters,  sitting  upon  stools  before  a  peat 
fire.  On  the  left  was  a  pile  of  manure,  which  the  cow 
and  calves  had  been  providing  from  the  preceding 
November.  This  manure  each  morning  is  pressed 
down,  and  a  little  dry  straw  or  leaves  put  over,  thus 
forming  a  solid  mass,  which  being  kept  warm  both  by 
pressure  and  a  fire,  the  owners  affirm,  makes  it  much 
richer.  On  the  right  was  a  board  extending  from  the 
corner  of  the  fire-place,  of  sufficient  length  for  a  bed  ; 
and  over  this  board,  upon  the  ground,  was  straw 
spread    for    the    whole   family 'i   sleeping-place.     The 


CHAP.  XVII.]  CO.  OF  CORK.  291 

furniture  was  a  pot  to  boil  potatoes,  an  old  basket,  a  few 
stools,  and  an  old  cupboard  with  plates,  and — 

"  Broken  tea-cups,  wisely  kept  for  show." 

To  my  first  inquiry,  "  can  you  tell  me  the  way  to 
the  hotel  ?"  I  received  no  answer,  all  looking  with 
J. amazement  at  the  first  and  only  bonnet  that  had  ever 
looked  in,  and  said  good  morning  to  them.  Again  I 
asked  the  way  ;  the  old  man  rose  and  said,  "  come  and 
rU  show  ye,"  and  led  me  to  a  path  among  the  rocks. 
^'  An'  may  Ibe  ye're  a  stranger,  an'  I'll  not  put  ye  out 
of  the  way."  Here  was  old  patriarchal  law,  though  I 
was  told  they  could  neither  read  nor  write.  This  hotel, 
which  the  natives  say  is  "  dacent  and  proper,"  is  quite 
commodious,  and,  being  the  only  one  in  the  glen,  com- 
mands all  the  visitors  from  various  parts  of  the  world. 
My  Saturday  night's  entertainment  was  a  just  rebuke 
for  turning  a  deaf  ear  to  the  counsel  of  my  friend  John, 
when  he  said,  '^  ye  couldn't  do  better,  ye'll  find  every 
convainience." 

On  my  return,  the  kind  little  Mary,  with  clean  apron 
and  nicely  combed  hair,  was  ready  to  accompany  me 
up  the  glen  to  the  "  Eagle's  Nest  ;"  and  no  nest 
was  ever  more  famed  in  history,  as  the  reader  shall 
presently  hear.  On  our  way  to  this  place  we  had  a 
river  to  cross  without  a  bridge,  and  the  late  rains  had 
so  swollen  it,  that  the  stepping-stones  were  covered. 
Mary  waded  the  stream,  and  I  made  my  way  over 
rocks,  bogs,  and  hillocks,  till  despairing  of  success ;  a 
ragged  peasant,  driving  a  horse  with  two  baskets 
of  lime  across  his  back,  called  out  to  Mary,  in  Irish, 
"  I'll  go  and  lift  her  across."  He  was  old,  and  I  did 
not  think  it  safe  ;  and  besides,  the  kindness  was  too 
great.  He  rolled  up  his  pantaloons,  waded  the  river, 
and  proffered  his  services  in  Irish.  I  declined  ;  when 
he  found  a  place  where,  taking  me  by  the  hand,  he 
helped  me,  at  considerable  peril,  over  the  slimy  rocks  ; 
and,  ascending  the  precipitous  bank,  he  braced  his 
feet,  pulled  me  up  the  steep,  and  set  me  on  terra  firma. 
He  could  not  understand  English,  nor  I  Irish  ;  but  he 


292  CO.  OF  CORK.  [chap.  xvit. 

understood  the  meaning  of  a  few  pennies  put  into  his 
hand,  and  seemed  quite  satisfied. 

In  half  an  hour  we  reached  the  slated  house  under  the 
mountain  ;  and,  as  a  slated  house  is  considered  a  step 
in  advance  towards  gentility,  and  the  tenant  of  this  had 
leased  the  whole  "  Eagle's  Nest,"  and  all  were  sub- 
tenants under  him,  he  deserves  a  conspicuous  place  in 
the  history  of  this  glen.  The  entrance  of  the  house 
was  blockaded  by  an  old  worn-out  horse,  with  two 
baskets  of  lime  on  his  back,  which  the  mother  and  two 
daughters  were  striving  in  vain  to  let  down.  The 
maidens  stepped  aside,  and  we  crawled  under  the  straw 
bridle  of  the  horse,  and  entered  a  room,  which  could 
boast  the  same  lineage  as  the  one  I  had  visited  in  the 
morning,  only  the  manure  was  not  so  evenly  patted 
down,  but  was  in  isolated  hillocks  about  the  room,  and 
the  calf  and  pig  were  leisurely  walking  between  them. 
The  conveniences  were  all  near  the  fire,  but  the  old  lady 
made  a  breakage  of  sufficient  width  to  place  a  stool,  and 
a  piece  of  turf  to  elevate  my  feet  from  the  ashes.  Here 
I  was  seated,  with  all  the  family  around  me  upon  the 
hearth,  except  a  boy,  whose  gaping  curiosity  could  not 
draw  him  from  a  ladder  on  which  he  was  swinging  in 
one  corner  of  the  cabin. 

"  Do  you  read  Irish  .^"  I  asked  the  woman.  With  a 
pause  of  astonishment  she  looked  upon  me,  then  upon 
her  girls,  and,  with  a  child-like  laugh,  said,  "  I  read  ! 
the  like  of  me  read  !  Not  a  hap'orth  of  Irish  or  Eng- 
lish." The  daughters  were  in  like  condition,  and  as 
much  diverted  at  my  strange  question  as  the  mother. 
Speaking  of  the  goodness  and  mercy  of  God,  they 
sobered  at  once  ;  and  after  talking  a  few  moments,  we 
left  without  presenting  any  books,  as  they  could  not 
read. 

We  tried  another  cabin ;  in  like  condition,  only 
darker,  and  the  roof  thatched.  Then  attempted  a 
third,  but  here  the  pile  of  manure  was  so  elevated,  and 
the  smoke  and  darkness  of  the  cabin  such,  that  both 
Mary  and  prudence  urged  a  retreat.  The  children  from 
the  thickly  clustered    cabins   crowded  forth,  and  one 


CHAP.  xvii.J  CO.  OF  CORK. 


bawled  out,  *^  A  penny  for  a  crass,  ma'am."  This 
means,  translated,  a  ribbon  crossed  upon  the  arm,  to 
be  worn  on  St.  Patrick's  day,  which  was  near  at  hand. 
Never,  never,  had  pictures  like  these  met  my  eyes.  I 
was  nearly  struck  mute.  Human  nature  had  never 
before  shown  me  what  she  could  do  when  allowed  to 
have  her  own  way.  Yet  these  people  can  say  the 
Lord's  prayer,  go  to  chapel,  wear  a  decent  cap  and 
cloak,  and  are  not  so  poor  but  that  all  have  cattle,  and 
some  money  in  reserve.  The  kind  Lord  Bantry,  it  is 
said,  gives  every  rational  indulgence,  and  seldom  sends 
any  empty  away  in  distress  ;  but  he  never  enters  their 
cabins  to  rebuke  their  filth,  or  offer  them  premiums  for 
any  improvements  they  might  make,  as  some  have  done 
with  good  success. 

The  "Eagle's  Nest"  was  the  last  wonder,  deriving 
its  name  from  an  eagle  having  made  its  nest  in  a  fissure 
of  the  rock  towards  the  top  of  the  mountain.  And  you 
are  told  that  a  man  named  Sullivan  supported  a  family 
of  six,  as  he  testified,  by  going  to  the  nest  daily,  and 
taking  the  flesh  of  lambs,  hares,  and  deer,  which  were 
left  for  the  young  ones.  This  tremendous  mountain 
has  a  hideous,  grand,  and  awful  appearance,  looking 
down  upon  these  wretched  abodes  that  are  smoking  be- 
neath. 

But  the  getting  home  was  the  next  question.  De- 
termining to  cross  the  river  when  anything  like  proba- 
bility appeared,  I  saw  something  tolerable,  though  my 
watchful  guide  said  we  should  "  be  destroyed"  getting 
through  the  bog  and  rushes  on  the  other  side.  So 
engrossed  were  my  thoughts  on  what  I  had  seen  at  the 
Eagle's  Nest,  that  I  heeded  neither  the  admonitions  of 
the  careful  child  nor  the  peril  that  lay  in  my  path.  I 
stepped  upon  the  rocks,  not  once  looking  or  thinking 
what  might  impede  me  on  the  other  side,  telling  the 
girl  to  go  on  before  me.  She  insisted,  "  Ye'd  be  lost, 
ye  cannot  get  up  the  bank,"  but  after  much  hesitation 
she  reluctantly  obeyed.  I  soon  found  myself  in  a  peri- 
lous situation  ;  the  rocks  slippery  and  far  asunder,  the 
water  deep  and  turbid,  and  my  Indian  rubber  shoes  were 


i 


294  CO.  OF  CORK,  [chap.  xvii. 

the  most  unpromising  part  of  my  security,  as  I  could 
neither  take  them  off,  nor  maintain  my  position,  but 
with  a  great  effort.  I  saw  my  folly  and  commended  the 
wisdom  of  the  child,  whom  I  directed  to  take  a  horizon- 
tal direction  up  the  bank,  and  with  a  kind  of  vacant 
anxiety  bordering  on  petrifaction,  I  watched  till  her 
well-guided  feet  stood  on  the  steep  bank  over  my  head. 
What  could  I  do  ?  To  retrace  my  steps  or  stay  where 
I  was,  looked  alike  impossible,  and  to  try  to  ascend  the 
bank  would  be  almost  madness.  There  was  no  alter- 
native but  onward.  I  clasped  a  bunch  of  hanging  twigs, 
they  loosened  the  earth,  and  I  felt  myself  sliding.  The 
presence  of  mind  of  the  guardian  angel  Mary  saved  me  ; 
she  caught  the  twigs,  and  with  an  almost  supernatural 
grasp  she  said,  "  Take  hold  of  the  top,  lady,  and  I  will 
hold  fast  at  the  bottom  so  that  you  can't  pull  them  up." 
It  was  done,  I  was  on  the  bank,  and  not  till  I  looked 
down  the  precipitous  steep  did  I  realize  the  presump- 
tuous step  I  had  taken.  But  my  stupidity  was  God's 
instrument  to  save  me  ;  my  mind  was  so  absorbed  on 
what  I  had  seen,  that  it  was  deadened  to  everything 
beside,  and  fear  or  concern  was  not  awakened.  The 
watchful  child,  as  though  my  life  had  been  intrusted  to 
her  care,  guided  my  way  with  the  discretion  of  an  ex- 
perienced general. 

We  made  a  safe  journey  home.  The  strange  things  I 
had  seen,  and  the  difficulties  I  had  surmounted,  were 
sufficient  for  meditation  ;  but  above  all  how  to  approach 
Lord  Bantry,  and  entreat  him  to  do  as  others  had  done, 
visit  the  cabins  and  work  some  change  for  the  better — 
was  a  weighty  incubus  which  I  could  not  shake  off.  As 
I  passed  his  cottage,  a  message  was  sent  out  inviting 
me  in ;  but  the  lateness  of  the  hour,  and  the  plight  of 
my  feet,  together  with  the  state  of  my  mind,  urged  me 
on,  lest  as  a  whole  he  might  mistake  my  drabbled  dress, 
twisted  awry  bonnet,  and  absence  of  mind,  for  "  a  loss 
of  the  sinse,"  and  I  hurried  home. 

The  next  morning,  a  little  more  restored,  I  called 
at  his  door,  but  the  butler  informed  me  he  could  see  no 
one,  as  he  had  a  bleeding  at  the  nose ;  so  he  escaped 


CHAP.  xvii.J  CO.  OF  CORK.  295 

what  he  ought  to  have  heard  years  before.  I  took  an- 
other day's  ramble  up  to  the  head  of  the  glen,  a  distance 
of  nearly  three  miles,  and  never  was  a  glen  to  me  like 
this.  From  the  top  of  a  rock  sometimes  a  shout  burst 
upon  my  ear,  then  some  wild  mountain  girl  would  cross 
my  path,  then  a  peasant  or  two,  with  braided  straw  sad- 
dles and  baskets  across  the  woe-begone  donkey,  with  a 
salute  of  "  God  save  ye  kindly,  lady" — then  some  way- 
worn old  woman,  with  a  rope  about  her  forehead,  sup- 
porting a  ponderous  sack  of  potatoes  or  turf  upon  her 
back^  would- greet  me.  Meeting  a  path  leading»from  the 
main  road,  I  followed  it,  and  seeing  a  broken  cart,  sup- 
posed that  human  beings  must  be  among  these  rocks, 
and  upon  my  left  I  saw  an  aperture  into  what  I  thought 
might  be  a  cave  or  mountain  den,  and  approaching, 
found  a  pig  nestled  in  some  straw,  and  a  voice  from 
within  called  out,  "  May-be  ye'd  like  to  come  in  and 
take  a  bait  by  the  fire.'' 

Had  this  invitation  proceeded  from  a  sepulchre,  it 
could  not  have  been  much  more  surprising,  and  not  half 
so  unnatural  for  the  abode  of  the  dead  as  the  living. 
I  stooped  down  and  walked  over  the  obstinate  pig  — 
stumbled  in,  and  here  saw  patient  misery  in  somewhat 
a  new  habiliment. 

Against  a  huge  rock — for  there  was  no  chimney — 
there  burned  a  few  little  twigs  of  wood.  Three  sisters — 
the  eldest  seventeen,  the  second  twelve,  and  the  third 
two,  all  nestled  in  straw,  for  there  were  not  stools 
enough  for  each  ;  and  neither  bed  nor  table  encumbered 
the  room. 

''  Where  do  you  sleep  ?"  I  asked. 

''  Poor  folks  must  do  as  they  can,  ma'am — we  lie 
here,"  pointing  to  a  pile  of  staw  on  the  left.  The  little 
child  now  asked  for  a  potatoe.  "  I  have  none  for  you." 
Not  a  particle  of  food  did  this  destitute  abode  contain  ; 
and  giving  the  child  a  couple  of  hard  biscuits,  she  gnawed 
them  greedily — for  the  first  time  probably  having  had 
a  piece  of  bread  in  her  life. 

"  How  do  you  live  .'" 

1  then  spoke  of  Jesus  Christ. 


CO.  OF  CORK.  [chap.  xvii. 


"  I  don't  understand  ye,"  said  she.  "  Do  you  not  know 
whom  I  mean  by  Jesus  Christ  ?''  I  asked. 

She  could  not  comprehend  me,  and  the  second  sister 
said,  "  We  don't  go  to  church  or  chapel,  ma'am."  I  in- 
quired how  long  they  had  lived  there.  "  One  year, 
ma'am."  They  had  no  father,  and  the  mother  had 
gone  from  home,  begging,  I  supposed.  1  knew  not  what 
to  say  to  them,  nor  what  to  do  for  them  ;  they  were 
perishing  for  "  lack  of  knowledge,"  and  the  beasts  of 
the  desert  had  more  comfortable  dwellings  than  they.* 

This  day  finished  my  tour  in  the  glen,  and  it  had  been 
the  moslfpeculiar  of  any  I  had  had  in  Ireland.  I  had 
learned  to  a  demonstration,  that  man  left  to  instinct 
alone,  will  not  make  himself  as  comfortable  as  the  beasts 
of  the  field,  or  birds  of  the  air — they  will  construct  their 
habitations  and  nests  when  wanted,  with  perfect  system 
and  even  with  mechanical  taste — while  man,  with  no 
stimulus  to  activity  but  barely  the  food  that  sustains 
him,  will  lie  down  in  stupid  content,  in  the  most  filthy, 
disorderly  habitation,  and  even  make  a  merit  of  doing 
so.  Here  were  literally  exemplified  the  words  of  Job, 
when  he  said  of  the  poor — "  They  embraced  the  rock 
for  a  shelter.''  ^'  For  want  and  famine  they  were  deso- 
late." "To  dwell  in  the  cliflPs  of  the  valleys, 
in  caves  of  the  earth,  and  in  the  rocks — among  the 
bushes  they  brayed,  under  the  nettles  they  were  gathered 
together." 

Often  have  I  seen  the  poor  famished  women  gathering 
nettles  to  boil,  because  they  had  no  other  food.  And 
here  1  would  add,  if  any  one  thinks  that  man  has  any- 
thing to  boast  since  the  Fall,  let  him  explore  the  moun- 
tains, the  glens,  the  caves,  and  even  the  towns  of  Ire- 
land :  and,  lest  he  should  find  a  loop-hole  for  his  pride, 
let  him  go  to  the  places  where  the  Bible  is  known,  and 
if  the  grace  of  God  have  not  changed  the  heart,  he  will 
find  the  same  degradation  in  morals  as  in  those  places 
where  it  has  not  been  read. 

*  This  is  not  mentioned  as  a  specimen  of  the  ignorance  of  the 
peasantry  as  a  whole,  for  in  no  place  did  they  appear  dark  on  the 
subject  of  Christ's  death  and  sufferings. 


CHAP,  xvii.j  CO.  OF  CORK.  297 

Saturday  morning,  March  7th. — Had  made  all  ready 
for  leaving  the  glen.  My  obligations  to  the  family 
where  I  stopped,  were  of  no  ordinary  kind. 

"  I  was  a  stranger  and  they  took  me  in.''  I  had 
enjoyed  religious  intercourse  by  conversation,  by  read- 
ing the  Scriptures,  and  by  prayer,  in  a  more  familiar 
way  than  in  any  family  I  had  visited  ;  and  though  this 
glen,  in  point  of  filth  and  whiskey-drinking,  stands 
pre-eminent,  yet  they  suffered  the  plainest  rebuke 
without  a  retort.  They  received  tracts,  and  thanked 
me  after  reading  them,  for  giving  them  such  kind  ad- 
vice ;  and  the  priest,  who  lived  some  miles  from  the 
glen,  sent  a  message  by  his  clerk,  thanking  me  for  the 
advice  I  had  given,  and  the  tracts  I  had  distributed. 
And  though  I  would  not  intersperse  my  journal  with 
preaching  a  long  sermon  in  every  chapter,  yet  here  it 
would  be  timely  to  say,  that  a  right  spirit  and  a  right 
manner  have  much  to  do  in  the  success  of  introducing 
any  principles  clashing  with  long  cherished  ones  of  our 
opponents. 

Should  a  sanctimonious  monk,  full  of  zeal  for  his 
church,  with  crucifix  and  rosary  in  his  hand,  come 
into  our  houses  and  tell  us  we  are  all  going  to  perdition, 
because  we  did  not  say  his  prayers,  and  embrace  his 
faith,  and  insist  that  we  should  assemble  our  house- 
hold to  hear  the  truth  from  his  lips,  should  we  do  it  ? 
Should  he  rail  on  our  clergy,  and  denounce  our  Sab- 
bath schools,  think  you  he  would  get  a  patient  hear- 
ing r 

Let  us  reverse  this  picture — let  us  allow  our  brethren 
of  the  human  family  the  same  prepossessions,  however 
absurd  they  may  be,  till,  by  a  course  of  Christian  chari- 
ty, we  show  them  that  the  religion  we  profess  is  indeed 
what  we  call  it,  a  religion  of  love,  and  calculated  to  do 
the  most  permanent  good. 

Should  any  one  visit  Glengariff — if  it  be  Glenga- 
riff  still — 'and  from  cabin  to  cabin  commence  an  attack 
upon  popery,  and  priests,  images,  and  the  "  blessed 
Virgin,"  he  might  be  grateful  if  he  escaped  unhurt ; 
but  let  him  go  with  a  heart  warm  with  a  Saviour's  love 
13* 


CO.  OF  CORK.  [chap.  xvii. 


— let  him  tell  them  of  this  love — let  him  tell  them  if 
they  do  not  repent,  they  will  all  likewise  perish — let 
him  rebuke  them  sharply  for  all  their  profanity,  Sab- 
bath-breaking, drunkenness,  &e. — let  him  pointedly  tell 
them  that  all  this  wickedness  comes  from  hatred  to  God, 
from  wicked  hearts  of  unbelief,  and  they  will  respond — 
"  An'  you're  the  one  that  knows  it" — they  will  gather 
around  him,  they  will  ask  him  to  read,  they  will  in- 
quire for  his  books,  and  sometimes  they  have  asked 
such  to  pray  for  them.  One  said  to  another,  "  Aint 
she  a  Protestant  .^''  '^  I  don't  care  what  she  is,"  was 
the  spirited  reply  ;  "  nothing  but  love  to  God  could 
bring  her  across  the  ocean  to  see  such  a  poor  people  as 
we,  and  stop  in  our  cabins  to  discoorse  us,  and  give  us 
good  books.  She's  been  well  rair'd,  the  cratur,  and 
that  she  has." 

But  we  must  not  stop  in  this  glen.  The  morning  had 
opened,  the  sun  looked  out  upon  a  clear  sky,  and  the 
boy  who  was  to  accompany  me  had  eaten  his  potatoes, 
and  was  ready  at  an  early  hour.  "  You  shall  give  us 
nothing  but  your  prayers,  and  you  shall  have  ours  ;  and 
if  ye  wouldn't  think  it  too  much  to  leave  the  little  book 
to  Mary,  she  loves  it  so  well,  I  will  cover  it  with  linen, 
and  she  shall  read  it  twice  a  day,  we  should  be  more 
than  paid." 

This  little  Mary  had  entwined  herself  around  my 
heart  by  so  many  acts  of  kindness,  as  well  as  her  good 
sense  and  integrity,  that  when  she  took  the  little  book, 
and  said,  "  I  thank  you  kindly,"  I  felt  like  snatching 
her  from  the  glen,  and  fixing  her  in  a  soil  where  she 
should  no  longer  "  blush  unseen." 

Master  and  Mistress,  Mary,  and  the  little  affection- 
ate dog  Vixen,  stood  out  upon  the  clean  pathway  and 
lawn  before  the  cottage — a  moment's  pause — "  and  we'll 
never  forget  ye,"  was  the  last  sound  that  fell  upon  my 
ear  ;  for,  as  I  proffered  my  hand,  and  saw  the  tear  glis- 
tening in  the  kind  eye  of  little  Mary,  I  hastened  away 
without  speaking. 

I  looked  back,  the  sun  was  shining  upon  this  little 
group  ;    the    holly,    the   arbutus,    and  the    laurel — my 


CHAP.  sTii.l  CO.  OF  CORK. 


favorite  shrubs  of  the  glen — were  quivering  in  its  rays 
at  their  side.  I  was  going  forth  upon  wild,  heathy 
mountains,  and  should  see  the  little  company  no  more, 
"  till  the  heavens  be  rolled  together  as  a  scroll."  They 
had  been  more  than  kind,  and  how  had  I  repaid  them  ? 
Had  I  done  what  I  could  to  scatter  light  in  their  path  } 
Are  they  no  worse  for  my  coming  among  them  ?  was 
my  heart-felt  inquiry.  Have  the  evening  prayers  which 
they  nightly  asked  me  to  put  up  in  their  family,  and 
the  reading  of  the  sweet  words  of  eternal  life,  which  for 
the  last  ten  days  had  been  heard  in  their  dwelling — 
had  these  entered  into  the  ears  of  the  Lord  of  Sabaoth, 
and  would  they  return  with  a  blessing  upon  their 
heads  ? 

The  little  Vixen  watched  the  return  of  the  family 
into  the  cottage,  and  leaped  after  me,  keeping  the  oppo- 
site side  of  the  stream  till  he  had  entered  the  thickest 
of  the  wood,  and  then  attempted  crossing  it,  nor  could 
we  urge  him  back  ;  and  not  till  the  little  Mary  appeared 
and  turned  him  away  would  he  leave  us,  and  we  soon 
lost  sight  of  them  for  ever. 

Our  path  lay  over  brambles  amid  rivulets  and  walls, 
up  one  of  the  tallest  mountains  in  the  glen,  where  many 
a  traveller  has  ascended  to  take  one  of  the  most  pictu- 
resque views  in  all  Glengariif. 

It  was  a  long  and  difficult  ascent,  but  courage  kept 
me  steady,  and  when  compelled  to  sit  down  upon  a 
crag  or  hillock,  the  smoke  of  a  cabin  by  the  side  of 
some  rock  or  hill,  the  shouting  of  children,  the  towering 
mountains  stretched  beyond  the  glen,  and  sleeping 
lakes  that  lay  at  our  feet,  made  such  a  picture  that  I 
forgot  my  weariness,  and  the  long  Irish  miles  I  had 
yet  to  walk.  I  was  told  that  there  are  in  this  glen 
and  upon  the  mountains,  three  hundred  and  sixty-five 
lakes.  This  I  am  not  prepared  to  prove  or  dispute, 
yet,  judging  from  what  1  met,  I  think  it  may  not  bo 
improbable.  The  hill  was  ascended,  we  reached  the 
newly  walled  road  made  upon  the  top  of  a  narrow 
ridge  of  mountain,  with  a  glen  on  each  hand  at  our 
feet,  a  precipitous  steep  of  many  yards  leading  to  these 


300  CO.  OF  KERRY.  [chap.  xvii. 


ravines,  whicli  in  most  places  made  a  dizzy  and  fearful 
sight  to  the  traveller.  At  length  the  tunnel,  hewn 
through  a  rock  like  the  arch  of  a  bridge,  met  our  eyes. 
Here  was  the  wonder  of  wonders.  For  the  distance  of 
eighty  perches  a  hole  is  cut  sufficiently  wide  and  high 
for  coaches  to  pass,  and  the  only  light  admitted  is  from 
the  entrance  at  each  end,  and  one  little  aperture  in  the 
top.  The  water  was  percolating  through  the  rock,  and 
darkness  made  it  a  prison  not  the  most  inviting  for  a 
long  tarry.  Giving  full  scope  to  my  voice  in  singing, 
the  echo  was  tremendous.  The  grandeur  that  burst 
upon  the  view  when  we  emerged,  was,  if  possible,  great- 
er than  when  we  entered  it,  nor  did  it  cease  till  we  had 
walked  two  miles.  We  then  came  in  sight  of  a  tolera- 
ble looking  house  at  a  distance,  and  found  it  belonged 
to  the  priest  of  the  glen.  I  was  fatigued,  and  willing 
to  avail  myself  of  the  acquaintance  I  had  with  him 
through  his  clerk,  whom  he  requested  to  thank  me  for 
my  labors  in  the  glen,  we  went  in.  The  priest  had 
gone,  but  the  kind  housekeeper,  so  far  as  words  could 
speak  kindness,  manifested  the  most  ardent  desire  to 
make  me  comfortable,  but  could  give  me  no  refresh- 
ment, as  they  lived  far  from  any  town,  and  their  bread 
was  all  brought  from  Bantry.  "  But  ye '11  meet  him  on  the 
way,  and  ye'll  know  him  by  the  sign  of  the  white  horse 
which  he  rides."  The  boy,  like  my  old  man,  began  to 
talk  of  the  lateness  of  the  hour,  and  we  hurried  away. 
Within  three  miles  of  Kenmare  we  saw  the  sign  of  the 
"  white  horse,"  and  without  preface  or  apology,  I  in- 
troduced myself.  He  thanked  me  kindly  for  lecturing 
his  people  at  the  glen,  and  said  he  had  got  discouraged. 
Five  years  before,  the  good  Father  Mathew  had  made 
them  all  temperate,  but  that  publican's  house  had  upset 
the  whole  work.  I  begged  him  to  visit  their  cabins, 
and  lecture  them  on  their  filth.  "  I  have  done  so,  but 
they  heeded  nothing  I  could  say."  He  lived  seven 
miles  from  them,  had  another  parish  in  charge,  and  he 
knew  not  how  to  remedy  these  evils ;  "  but  to-morrow 
I  have  been  thinking  of  making  a  trial  from  the  altar, 


CHAP,  xvii.]  CO.  OF  KERRY,  301 

and  I  would  take  the  liberty  of  using  your  name."  Poor 
man  !  if  indeed  he  felt  the  necessity  of  using  me  as  a 
scare-crow,  certainly  I  should  not  object,  but  I  doubted 
the  efficacy  of  the  remedy. 

While  talking  with  the  priest,  who  directed  me  to 
the  best  lodgings  in  town  in  his  name,  a  ragged  young 
man,  with  a  cart  and  high  railing  about  it,  filled  with 
turf  baskets,  drawn  by  a  miserable  looking  pony,  pass- 
ed us.  This  was  the  time  for  an  onset.  My  boy  had 
been  complaining  much  that  the  "  night  would  be 
heavy  on  him,"  and  he  contrived  to  make  a  happy  dis- 
posal of  me  for  his  own  benefit.  This  was  done  by  tak- 
ing down  the  railings  and  fixing  the  baskets  in  a  kind  of 
circle,  so  that  by  sitting  on  one  that  was  inverted,  with 
my  feet  in  the  space,  I  could  be  snugly  poised.  When 
I  reached  the  cart  the  driver  said,  "  Ye  had  a  wairy 
walk,  and  may  be  ye'd  be  kind  enough  to  sit  on  my 
humble  cart,  and  ride  to  town  ;  we've  fixed  a  sait  here, 
will  ye  get  up  .^" 

This  was  too  plain  to  be  misunderstood,  and  too 
polite  to  be  rejected:  the  boy  responded,  "and  may 
be  he'd  be  willin'  to  carry  the  luggage  too."  "  That 
indeed,"  said  the  accommodating  man.  "  Then  ye'U 
not  want  me,  and  I  can  go  back."  This  was  done,  and 
well  done  on  their  part,  and  they  assisted  in  adjusting 
me  and  my  luggage.  The  boy  was  paid  and  turned 
about,  and  I,  with  a  new  companion,  and  in  somewhat 
a  new  mode  of  travelling,  was  under  favorable  auspices 
for  reaching  the  town.  My  young  driver  talked  fluently 
of  America,  and  said  he  should  go  there  but  for  the  lit- 
tle gal  he  had  married,  who  would  be  lonesome  without 
him. 

"  The  little  gal  you  have  married  !  you  are  not  yet 
twenty  !" 

"  That  I  aint,  and  the  gal  is  but  thirteen  or  four- 
teen." 

"  Nonsense,  nonsense.  What  can  you  do  with  a 
wife  .^" 

"  And  may  be  I  don't  know  ;  why,  work,  and  take 
care  of  her. " 


302  CO.  OF  KERRY.  [chap,  xviii. 

'*  And  how  much  do  you  have  a  day  ?" 

"  Sometimes  the  sixpence,  and  when  I  gits  a  job  with 
the  pony,  it's  a  shilling  or  fifteen  pence." 

"  And  with  this  you  expect  to  support  a  wife  ?" 

"  With  the  turn  that  she  can  git  now  and  then  from 
a  lady." 

He  was  a  sharp-nosed  stinted  boy,  not  in  appearance 
more  than  sixteen,  yet  he  had  as  high  hopes  of  aggram- 
dizement  as  though  a  candidate  for  parliament.  Envia- 
ble content  !  happy  misery  ! 


CHAPTER  XVni. 

Accident  at  Kenmare— Arrival  at  Killarney— Dread  of  Heretical  Books— Turk 
Waterfall — Funeral  Wail — America's  good  fame — Lions  of  the  Lake — "  Sweet 
Innisfallen" — White-robed  Procession — A  Third  Funeral — Dry  Bones — Bat- 
tle of  the  Ghosts—'-  Pair  of  Slippers"— Test  of  Orthodoxy— Staring  '.  Star- 
ing !— Another  Hospitable  Gate-house — Lord  Kenmare's  Park — Calm  Sabbath 
Morn- The  Little  Petitioner  for  the   '■'  Word  of  God"'— A  Door  of  Access. 

It  was  certainly  an  object  of  no  small  interest  at  Ken- 
mare, that  such  a  "  dacent  body"  was  not  in  a  coach, 
and  the  fat  contented  old  lady,  to  whom  the  priest  di- 
rected me,  knocked  the  ashes  from  her  pipe,  saying, 
'^  and  it's  you  that's  the  lady."  The  village  assembled 
in  the  evening  and  listened  to  reading  till  a  late  hour, 
ever  finding  it  a  better  way  before  distributing  tracts  to 
read  something  interesting,  which  always  awakened  a 
curiosity  to  become  better  acquainted  with  them.  Sab- 
bath morning,  going  out  to  an  ivy-covered  decayed  cas- 
tle near  by,  and  attempting  to  climb  a  wall,  my  cape 
blew  over  my  face,  my  foot  slipped,  and  1  fell  upon  the 
pavement,  and  so  great  was  the  jar,  that  for  a  moment 
I  supposed  my  fate  was  sealed,  and  that  in  Ireland, 
and  in  that  unpromising  looking  town,  I  must  endure 
probably  months  of  suffering  with  a  disease  of  the 
spine,  as  I  had   done  in  New  York.     A   company  were 


CHAP.  XVIII.]  CO.  OF  KERRY.  303 

passing  to  mass,  and  two  old  men  helped  rae  a  little  up- 
right, and  placed  me  against  the  wall,  leaving  me  to 
mj  meditations,  which  were  not  the  most  flattering.  I 
looked  about  upon  the  desolate  town,  and  recoiled  at 
the  thought  of  being  left  in  it,  and  made  an  effort  to 
arise  ;  with  considerable  suffering  I  reached  my  lodging, 
and  in  a  little  time  quite  regained  my  former  position. 
Heard  a  dull  sermon  with  dull  ears. 

This  town  has  nothing  interesting  but  a  suspension 
bridge,  with  two  richly  ornamented  pillars,  and  a  hand- 
some pier.  The  next  morning,  though  urged  to  stay, 
I  bade  adieu,  started  for  the  fairy  land  of  Killarney,  and 
rode  through  a  wild  tract  of  twenty  miles,  till  the  ^'  Up- 
per Lakes''  of  the  far-famed  Killarney  met  my  sight. 
Nothing  here  appeared  peculiarly  striking;  the  day  was 
chill,  the  company  dull,  and  I  was  making  up  my  mind, 
that  if  I  had  visited  this  spot  for  novelty  or  beauty,  I 
might  better  have  stayed  in  Glengariff.  1  stepped  in  to 
inquire  for  lodgings,  and  was  quite  happy  when  safely 
out  upon  the  street ;  and  inquiring  for  Mrs.  Casey, 
to  whom  1  had  been  recommended  at  Cork,  I 
found  a  comfortable  home  during  my  stay  in  that 
place. 

Ross  Island  was  the  first  in  the  morning  to  which  I 
resorted  ;  and,  reaching  the  gate  of  a  beautiful  thatched 
cottage,  saw  the  proprietor  in  the  garden,  who  invited 
me  through  the  gate,  and  accompanied  me  about  the 
several  walks.  Though  in  the  month  of  March,  it  was 
blooming  with  greens  and  flowers.  The  different  open- 
ings upon  the  lakes  were  made  with  a  most  happy  skill, 
and  the  parts  which  were  left  wild  were  selected  with 
judgment.  The  gardeners  of  Ireland  display  much 
taste  in  adjusting  their  rough  stones,  their  rustic  seats 
and  summer-houses  ;  and  in  fitting  up  a  pleasure-ground, 
they  seem  to  possess  a  correct  judgment  in  knowing 
what  to  cultivate,  and  what  to  leave  wild.  This  spot 
possesses  beauties  which  to  an  admirer  of  nature  cannot 
fail  to  please. 

At  ten  I  returned,  the  hour  that  the  laborers  break- 
fast ;  and  the  family  finished  at  eleven.    So  late  are  the 


304  CO.  OF  KERRY.  [chap.  xvin. 

Irish  about  rising  in  the  morning,  that  the  best  part  of 
the  day  is  often  lost.  I  sauntered  through  the  town, 
and  here  GlengariflP  scenes  were  acted  over  by  a  mob  of 
boySj  women,  and  girls,  with  cloaks  over  head,  some  in 
pursuit,  and  others  running  before,  and  then  stopping 
to  have  a  full  gaze.  So  much  had  I  heard  of  the  beau- 
ties of  Killarney,  that  I  was  quite  disappointed  in  the 
refinement  of  the  people.  A  boy  accompanied  me  to 
the  Victoria  Hotel,  situated  on  the  bank  of  the  lower 
lake,  a  mile  from  town.  In  summer  this  is  well  filled 
with  company  from  various  parts  of  the  world  to  visit 
these  enchanting  lakes.  I  was  quite  annoyed  by  a  boy 
asking  for  books.  I  gave  him  a  copy  of  the  Douay 
gospels,  and  he  went  away  pleased  ;  in  an  hour  he  was 
running  after  me,  crying,  "  This  is  a  Protestant  book, 
and  I  won't  have  it."  Telling  him  what  it  was,  and, 
asking  why  he  was  so  afraid  of  it,  he  answered,  "  I  would 
rather  have  my  own  religion,  and  should  not  like  to 
take  a  Protestant  book  ;"  he  took  it  a  second  time,  and 
at  evening  came  running,  and  rudely  thrust  it  into  my 
hand,  saying,  "  I  know  this  is  a  Protestant  book,  and 
I  will  not  have  it."  The  boy  seemed  grieved,  that,  as 
he  supposed,  I  had  deceived  him.  He  had  carried  the 
book  to  his  mother,  and  she  had  told  him  it  was  one  of 
the  Protestant  tracts  that  had  been  distributed  there  to 
injure  Romanism.  A  little  girl  of  twelve  stood  listen- 
ing, and  said,  "  Madam,  will  you  let  me  have  the  book  ? 
You  shouldn't  be  giving  your  books  to  every  scrawl  in 
the  street."  Fearing,  notwithstanding  her  judicious 
caution,  she  might  be  a  "  scrawl,"  I  declined,  telling 
her  to  go  home  and  think  of  it,  and  if  she  continued  to 
want  one,  to  call  at  my  lodgings  Sabbath  evening  at  six 
o'clock,  and  she  should  have  one.  "  'Tis  the  Word 
of  God  I  want,  ma'am." 

March  I3th. — I  took  a  walk  of  four  miles  to  the  cele- 
brated Turk  mountain  to  see  the  cascade,  and  when  I 
had  reached  the  foot  of  it,  I  sat  down  upon  a  seat  to 
meditate  undisturbed  on  this  beautiful  sight.  Four 
white  sheets  of  water  have  for  ages  been  coursing  down 
a  rock  of  eighty  feet  in  height,   wearing   channels  of 


CHAP.  XVIII.]  CO.  OF  KERRY.  305 

considerable  depth,  and  on  their  way  have  received 
some  small  rivulets  issuing  from  the  sides  of  the  moun- 
tain pouring  together  into  one  basin  at  the  bottom. 
The  mountains  on  either  hand  are  lofty,  wild,  and  pre- 
cipitous. I  attempted  to  make  my  way  over  the  slip- 
pery stones  to  reach  the  basin,  but  found  it  too  hazar- 
dous, being  out  of  the  hearing  of  any  human  being,  and 
should  I  tumble  into  the  stream,  or  break  a  bone,  my 
fate  would  be  irrecoverable. 

An  hour  was  gone,  and  admiration,  if  possible,  was 
increasing  ;  but  looking  to  my  left,  I  saw  a  path  lead- 
ing up  the  mountain,  and  followed  it.  In  a  few  yards 
it  opened  a  small  view  of  the  lakes,  and  as  you  ascend 
the  view  widens  and  widens,  till  you  see  spread  out  be- 
fore you  lawns,  the  middle  and  lower  lakes,  with  their 
beautiful  islands,  and  the  grand  Kerry  mountains 
stretching  out  beyond.  Seats  at  proper  distances  are 
arranged,  where  the  traveller  may  rest,  and  feast  his  eyes 
on  the  beauties  beneath  his  feet.  But  when  the  top  is 
reached,  the  awful  precipice  overhanging  the  cascade 
would  endanger  the  life  of  any  one  to  overlook,  were 
there  not  a  railing  erected  for  the  safety  of  the  visitor. 
Here  I  sat,  and  thanked  God  that  he  had  given  me  eyes 
to  see,  and  a  mind  to  enjoy,  a  scene  like  this.  More 
than  three  thousand  miles  from  my  native  country,  on 
the  top  of  this  awfully  wild  mountain,  where  many  a 
stranger's  foot  had  trod,  I  was  enjoying  a  good  reward 
for  all  my  labor.  The  sun  was  shining  upon  the  unruf- 
fled lakes,  the  birds  were  hopping  from  bough  to  bough, 
mingling  their  songs  with  the  untiring  cascade,  the  par- 
tridge fluttered  in  the  brake  at  a  distance,  but  I  knew  no 
venomous  serpent  was  there.  1  was  unwilling  to  leave 
the  spot,  and  had  not  the  promise  of  returning  to  wit- 
ness a  funeral  at  two  o'clock  urged  me  away,  my  stay 
might  have  been  protracted  till  sunset.  I  lingered 
and  looked,  and  like  Eve  when  leaving  paradise, 
said — 

"  And  must  I  leave  thee  !" 

I  returned   not  till  1  had  explored  the  end  of  the 


306  CO.  OF  KERRY.  [chap,  xviii. 

woodman's  path,  over  a  bridge  that  crossed  the  chasm 
beyond,  and  then  took  a  last  look  of  this  coy  maiden, 
standinor  once  more  at  her  feet.  Thouo;h  she  cannot 
boast  the  awful  grandeur  of  the  bold  Niagara  of  my  na- 
tive country,  yet  she  has  beauties  which  can  never  cease 
to  please.  She  has  an  unassuming  modesty  which  com- 
pels you  to  admire,  because  she  seems  not  to  covet  your 
admiration.  She  is  so  concealed  that  the  eye  never 
meets  her  till  close  upon  the  white  folds  of  her  drapery, 
and  when,  but  a  few  paces  from  her  feet,  I  turned  to 
take  another  look,  I  could  not  see  even  "the hem  of  her 
garment." 

On  returning  to  the  gate,  it  was  locked  ;  the  woman 
who  had  kept  it  had  given  me  the  key  ;  I  had  carelessly 
left  it  in  the  door,  without  locking  it,  and  she  had 
fastened  the  gate  and  taken  the  key.  I  could  neither 
make  myself  heard,  nor  climb  the  wall ;  a  sad  dilemma  ! 
A  return  to  the  cascade  seemed  to  be  the  only  alterna- 
tive ;  but  following  the  wall,  an  end  was  happily  found, 
and  the  road  soon  gained.  Stopping  at  a  neat  little 
lodge,  bread  and  honey  were  brought  to  me  in  such  a 
simple  patriarchal  manner,  that  the  days  of  Rebecca 
and  Ruth  were  before  me. 

The  loud  "  wail"  for  the  dead  soon  sounded  from 
the  mountain.  "  She's  a  proper  woman,"  said  one, 
"  and  her  six  children  are  all  very  sorry  for  her,  the 
cratur."  I  went  on  to  the  gate  till  the  multitudinous 
procession  arrived,  bearing  the  coffin  on  a  couple  of 
sheets,  twisted  so  that  four  men  could  take  hold  one  at 
each  end,  and  carry  it  along.  Women  were  not  only 
howling,  but  tears  were  fast  streaming  from  many  an 
eye.  When  they  reached  the  abbey,  the  grave  was  not 
dug,  and  here  was  a  new  and  louder  wail  struck  up. 
While  the  grave  was  digging,  eight  women  knelt  down 
by  the  coffin,  and  putting  their  hands  upon  it,  and  beat- 
ing with  force,  set  up  a  most  terrific  lamentation.  The 
pounding  upon  the  coffin,  the  howling,  and  the  shovel- 
ling of  earth  from  the  grave,  made  together  sounds  and 
sights  strange,  if  not  unseemly.  The  body  was  to  be 
deposited  where  a  brother  and  a  sister  had  been  buried. 


CHAP.  XVIII.]  CO.  OF  KERRY.  307 

and  when  they  reached  the  first  coffin,  took  it  out,  and 
found  the  second  rotten,  they  took  up  the  mouldered 
pieces  and  flung  them  away.  The  bones  of  the  legs 
and  arms,  with  the  skull,  were  put  together,  and  laid 
by  the  side  of  the  coffins;  the  new  coffin  was  put 
down,  and  the  old  one,  which  was  the  last  of  the  two 
former,  was  placed  upon  it. 

When  all  was  finished,  they  knelt  down  to  offer  up  a 
prayer  for  the  dead,  which  was  done  in  silence,  and  they 
walked  away  with  much  decency. 

Mucrus  Abbey  is  of  itself  enough  for  a  book  ;  but  as 
so  much  has  been  said  of  it  to  the  purpose,  and  as  mi- 
nute description  of  castles  or  abbeys  is  not  the  object 
of  this  journal,  the  reader  will  find  elsewhere  what  could 
not  have  room  in  a  work  like  this. 

On  my  way  to  the  cascade,  I  stopped  at  the  gate  of 
the  lodge  on  the  borders  of  the  lake,  and  the  keeper 
said  I  could  not  be  allowed  to  enter  on  any  conditions. 
'M  am  a  stranger  from  New  York,"  said  I.  "  Come  in, 
come  in,"  was  the  response.  She  conducted  me  through, 
and  pointed  me  to  the  best  views  upon  the  lake ;  and 
seeing  a  pier  built  out  to  an  island,  I  followed,  and 
found  a  delightfully  fitted-up  spot  with  caverns,  sitting 
rooms,  rustic  seats,  and  walks.  There  was  once  an  old 
castle  built  upon  this  rock,  and  caves  were  made  by 
the  wearing  of  the  water  in  the  rock  on  which  the 
castle  stood.  Going  to  the  dwelling  upon  the  shore, 
men-servants  and  maid-servants  came  out  to  salute 
me,  yet  none  asked  me  in,  though  welcome  was  given 
me  to  visit  all  the  domain  without  any  restriction. 
But  America  is  all  the  theme  by  the  laboring  class  of 
Ireland  ;  glad  was  I,  that,  notwithstanding  her  abomi- 
nable slavery,  yet  here  is  a  little  green  spot,  where  I 
could  rest  and  look  my  enemies  in  the  face  undaunted. 
The  free  states  of  my  own  country  have  ever  been  an 
asylum  to  the  foreigner,  and  the  reward  of  his  labor 
has  been  given  him.  The  ragged  laborer  has  soon 
exchanged  his  tatters  for  decent  apparel,  the  bare  feet 
of  the  cabin  girl  have  been  covered,  and  the  basket 
has  been  taken  from  the  back  of  the  peasant  woman. 


^  ^me  CO.  OF  KERRY.  [chap,  xviii. 

I  would  acknowledge  with  gratitude  that,  throughout 
the  length  and  breadth  of  Ireland,  the  poor  have  re- 
quired no  letter  of  introduction,  but  the  name  of  Ame- 
rica. It  has  opened  the  gate  of  many  a  porter's  lodge ; 
it  has  shown  me  into  many  a  prohibited  pleasure 
ground,  and  given  me  many  a  potatoe  or  cup  of  milk  in 
the  cabin,  when  the  aristocrat  would  have  looked  with 
suspicion  on  the  letter  of  introduction  from  the  best 
authority. 

One  of  the  servants  was  fitting  for  a  voyage  to  Bos- 
ton, and  asked  what  she  should  most  need  to  recom- 
mend her.  I  answered,  cleanliness ;  that  want  of  this 
could  not  be  supplied  by  any  qualification,  however 
good,  in  New  England. 

Thursday. — Two  boatmen,  for  five  shillings,  took 
me  upon  the  lakes,  and  showed  the  various  curiosities. 
We  saw  Goat  Island,  where  were  two  cottages,  one 
of  great  beauty,  but  found  no  inmates — the  island 
called  O'Donohoe's  Library,  having  stones  so  arranged 
about  the  edge  that  they  have  the  appearance  of  books 
lying  slantingly  upon  each  other — a  circular  pond, 
now  called  Father  Mathew's  Coffee  Basin,  once  the 
resort  of  punch-drinkers,  and  called  the  "  Devil's 
Punch  Bowl" — andanotherpond,  which  was  the  favorite 
resort  of  Sir  Walter  Scott,  and  called  by  him  the 
"Meeting  of  the  Waters."  This  pond  is  surrounded 
by  beautiful  shrubbery,  into  which  the  lake  empties 
itself  by  four  different  ways,  a  nook  peculiarly  fitted 
for  the  play  of  an  imagination  like  his.  The  Eagle's 
Nest  came  next,  a  lofty  mountain  much  like  the  one 
in  Glengariff,  but  no  frightful  inhabitants  there. 
Here  the  proud  eagle  uncontrolled  soars  fearless  of 
the  marksman's  arrow,  as  lord  of  both  sky  and  moun- 
tain ;  here  too,  are  cradled  the  young  eaglets  till 
fitted  for  flight ;  and  the  boatmen  showed  me  a  ca- 
vity in  the  rock  where  a  nest  has  yearly  been 
made ;  the  nest  was  once  robbed,  and  two  of  the  young 
eagles  are  now  kept  for  pets  in  Killarney.  An  adven- 
turous man,  with  a  pistol  and  hook  in  his  hands,  was 
fastened  by  a  rope  round  his  body  and  legs,  the  rope 


CHAP.  XVIII.]  CO.  OF  KERRY.  309 

was  carried  to  the  top  of  the  rock  and  there  made  se- 
cure ;  when  he  had  reached  the  nest,  he  grappled  the 
hook,  secured  the  young,  fired  his  pistol,  and  was  let 
down 

We  sailed  back  from  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  and 
viewed  the  shores  from  the  middle  lake.  Here  the 
water  has  worn  the  rocks  till  it  has  formed  beautiful  cav- 
erns, called  wine  cellars.  In  some  places  pillars  are  left, 
which  look  as  if  hewn  by  a  chisel. 

The  famous  Innisfallen  was  not  the  least  of  the  beau- 
ties of  these  lakes,  sung  by  poets,  and  admired  by  all — 
a  green  spot  where  stands  a  castle,  or  rather  the  remains 
of  one,  but  no  cottage.  The  island  was  beautifully 
green,  and  sheep  were  feeding  upon  it.  The  Bed  of 
Honor,  abt)ut  which  so  many  ludicrous  stories  are  told, 
is  in  quite  a  perilous  place  for  a  retreat  of  safety  ;  a 
point  of  the  rock  juts  into  the  lake,  in  the  side  of  which 
is  a  little  shelf,  where  it  is  said  two  runaway  lovers  hid 
from  the  wrath  of  a  father  and  affianced  husband  who 
followed.  The  fugitives  went  out  to  meet  them,  and 
the  lover  left  the  matter  to  the  honor  of  the  betrothed 
one,  who,  notwithstanding  the  partiality  the  maiden 
evinced  for  another,  bore  her  away,  and  made  her  his 
unwilling  bride. 

The  story  answers  well  for  the  purses  of  the  guides, 
who  are  sure  to  add  every  variety  that  can  give  zest  to 
the  tale. 

But  Innisfallen  has  beauties  which  can  scarcely  be  ex- 
aggerated, and  if  art  has  any  part  in  rendering  landscape 
lovely,  a  cottage  here  would  be  at  least  a  pleasant  varie- 
ty. The  lady  who  owns  it  has  proceeded  so  far  towards 
a  commencement  as  to  send  a  huge  pile  of  lime  to  the 
spot,  and  a  few  stones,  but  the  selfish  thought  that  she 
had  no  children  to  enjoy  it,  and  that  she  would  not  build 
it  for  the  benefit  of  strangers,  prevailed,  and  the  rub- 
bish remains  as  a  memento  of  the  lady's  love  for  pos- 
terity. 

On  our  return  we  had  a  view  of  the  ivy-covered 
castle  on  Ross  Island.  The  side  fronting  the  lake  was 
completely  overrun  with  ivy,  except  a  few  little  white 


310  CO.  OF  KERRY.  [chap,  xyiii. 

spots,  whicli  at  a  distance  had  the  appearance  of 
patches  put  on.  The  place,  the  plan,  and  finish  of  this 
castle,  are  a  worthy  comment  on  the  taste  of  the  an- 
cients, and  the  former  prosperity  of  Ireland.  The  boat- 
men obeyed  to  the  letter  the  command  given  when  set- 
ting out,  not  to  give  one  fairy  tale.  Consequently  my 
eyes  were  not  diverted,  nor  my  imagination  stretched, 
to  make  out  beauties  and  wonders  which  were  not  ex- 
actly before  me.  The  realities  of  Killarney-lakes  are 
enough  without  any  varnishing.  As  a  whole,  a  fairy 
land  in  reality,  I  had  read  much  of  it  ;  but  when  I  saw 
it,  I  determined  to  mock  no  reader  with  a  description, 
as  I  had  been,  but  to  invite  all  who  may  choose  to  have 
a  spare  shilling,  to  give  it  to  a  common-sense  boatman 
on  the  lakes  of  Killarney. 

Friday  early,  I  heard  the  tolling  of  a  bell,  and  was 
told  it  was  the  convent  bell,  tolling  the  funeral  of  a 
nun,  the  matron  of  the  institution.  I  passed  by  the 
crowded  gate,  and  though  the  keeper  was  preventing 
the  entrance  of  the  crowd,  finding  that  I  was  an  Ame- 
rican stranger,  the  porter  said,  "  Welcome,  welcome 
in,"  and  opened  the  gate.  This  was  a  favorable  mo- 
ment ;  the  crowd,  without  preface  or  apology,  rushed 
in,  and  pressed  me  by  force  into  the  convent  yard. 
The  procession  was  conducted  by  priests  in  white 
robes,  followed  by  twelve  girls  in  white ;  then  the 
nuns  in  white  robes,  with  black  veils,  and  all  bearing 
lighted  candles  ;  the  priests  reading  prayers  in  Latin, 
intelligible  to  all  but  the  listeners.  They  entered  the  high 
walled  enclosure  where  the  nuns  were  interred,  and  chant- 
ed a  plaintive  funeral  song,  while  the  corpse  was  being 
buried. 

A  gentleman  approached,  asking,  ''  Have  you  seen 
the  interment.'"  adding,  "  had  I  seen  you  before,  you 
fihould  have  been  admitted,  as  you  are  a  stranger." 

I  next  walked  through  the  gate  leading  to  Lord 
Kenmare's  domain,  a  happy  appendage  to  the  lakes, 
ornamented  with  walks  and  seats,  and  two  rustic 
thatched  cottages,  made  of  small  round  sticks  of  wood 
with  the  bark  on,  and  put  together  like  patch-work,  in 


cHAP.xviii.j  CO.  OF  KERRY.  311 

diamonds,  wheels,  and  stars ;  the  floors  are  laid  in 
small  pebbles,  in  wheels,  and  the  whole  together  is  in 
perfect  taste.  The  sun  was  shining  upon  the  sloping 
green  lawn,  and  the  lakes  below  were  sparkling  in  its 
light.  I  was  just  seated  in  one  of  the  cottages,  ga- 
thering around  me  the  dancing  fairies  of  the  imagina- 
tion, when  a  wail  for  the  dead  fell  on  my  ear.  Surely 
this  morning  thus  far  was  devoted  to  the  ghosts  of  the 
departed.  1  hastened  from  the  enchanted  seat,  and 
found  that  the  procession  was  moving  to  the  burying- 
place  upon  the  hill,  the  oldest  in  all  Killarney.  The 
undying  propensity  of  all  ages  to  look,  and  if  possible 
to  accompany  a  funeral  procession,  led  me  on,  and  I 
waded  through,  and  climbed  over  walls,  to  follow  the 
dead,  but  did  not  succeed  in  time,  the  death-cry  having 
ceased  before  I  could  reach  them. 

A  youth  tending  cattle  upon  the  hill  showed  me  into 
the  burying-ground  and  old  church,  said  to  be  1,150 
years  old.  An  old  tower,  and  the  Bishop's  chair,  be- 
ing no  more  than  the  remains  of  an  old  tower,  in  shape 
in  its  ruins  like  a  large  chair,  stand  at  a  distance.  But 
the  sight  of  sights  is  the  pile  of  dry  bones  in  one  cor- 
ner of  the  church-yard,  and  scattered  all  through  it,  as 
well  as  around  it.  Skulls  with  open  jaws  and  teeth, 
and  all  the  bones  of  the  body,  are  here  in  thick  profu- 
sion under  the  open  sky.  It  is  said  that  the  burying- 
ground  is  as  old  as  the  church,  and  the  peasantry  of  Ire- 
land retain  a  strong  propensity  to  bury  their  dead  with 
their  ancestors,  consequently  this  is  the  spot  where 
Killarney  dead  must  lie,  though  the  bones  of  kings 
and  nobles  are  rooted  out,  and  scattered  to  bleach  in  the 
winds  and  sun  of  heaven,  to  make  room  for  them. 
While  standing  with  the  mountain  herder,  a  man  whose 
cabin  "joined  hard"  to  the  burying-ground,  accosted 
us.  I  asked  if  it  was  not  unpleasant  to  live  near  so 
many  dead  bodies  and  dried  bones.  "  Not  at  all  ;  it's 
the  livin',  ma'am,  that  do  the  hurt,"  adding  a  story, 
which  requires  both  Irish  cleverness  and  Irish  brogue  to 
be  well  understood. 

A  young  mountain  lad  had  been  to  a  fair,  and  t©ok 


312  CO.  OF  KERRY.  [chap,  xvrii. 

too  much  whiskey  ;  on  his  return  up  the  mountain,  his 
pathway  lay  across  this  burying-ground.  As  he  passed 
a  tomb-stone,  a  couple  of  goats  were  pushing  with  their 
horns,  and  ^'  rattling  them  like  sticks,"  The  terrified 
fellow  ran  home  as  fast  as  his  staggering  would  enable 
him,  and  fell  shaking  upon  the  floor,  and  it  was  not  for 
hours  that  he  could  understandingly  tell  the  astonished 
family  what  had  caused  the  fright.  At  last  he  informed 
them,  "  that  all  the  ghosts  that  had  been  buried  for  the 
last  forty  years  had  come  out  of  their  graves,  and  were 
killing  each  other,  for  he  saw  them  fightin'  and  heard 
the  bones  rattle,  and  they  were  all  in  their  windin' 
sheets  about  the  ground."  '^  For  a  twelvemonth," 
said  the  narrator,  "Paddy  could  hear  nothing  else  when 
he  went  to  the  town,  but  the  '  rattlin'  of  dead  bones 
killin'  each  other.'  " 

This  burial  place,  like  most  others  in  Ireland,  is  si- 
tuated in  a  pleasant  spot,  and  it  would  seem  that  the 
ancients  had  a  regard  for  good  air,  extensive  view,  and 
a  noble  church  for  the  comfort  of  their  dead.  The  coun- 
try here  slopes  down  to  the  lakes.  The  Kerry  moun- 
tains rise  in  the  most  varied  shapes,  and  topped  with 
snow,  glistening  in  the  sun  ;  while  many  a  green  field 
with  cattle  and  sheep  spreads  out  at  their  feet,  making 
together  so  picturesque  a  view,  that  I  sat  down  upon  a 
wall,  with  my  cabin  man  and  mountain  lad  at  my  feet, 
for  two  hours  ;  and  they  in  turn  did  what  they  could  to 
amuse  and  instruct  me. 

On  my  way  down  the  mountain,  seeing  a  most  mi- 
serable cabin,  I  ventured  through  the  door,  and  found  it 
was  the  home  of  the  mountain  boy  I  had  left.  He 
certainly  made  a  happy  change  when  he  left  the  dirty, 
smoky  hovel,  where  men,  women,  pigs,  and  cattle, 
geese  and  turkeys,  all  had  one  common  lodgment,  if 
not  one  common  bed.  The  old  man,  the  boy's  father, 
said,  "  he  had  lived  there  sixty  years,  was  now  in  a 
decline  and  ould,  and  hoped,  through  attention  to  the 
duties  of  the  church,  to  get  to  heaven  at  last."  He 
was  pointed  to  the  '^Lamb  of  God,  who  takes  away 
the  sin  of  the  world  ;"  but  he  could  not  understand 


CHAP.  XVII I.]  CO.  OF  KERRY.  313 

how  he  could  be  saved  out  of  his  church,  nor  how  he 
could  be  lost  if  he  obeyed  its  mandates.  Now  for  civi- 
lity and  hospitality.  The  old  man  said,  "  an'  yer  feet 
are  destroyed  by  the  mud,  and  wouldn't  ye  have  a 
pair  of  slippers,  and  rest  yer  feet,  and  stop  and  take 
a  fresh  egg  .^"  Have  a  pair  of  slippers  !  In  a  hovel 
like  this  !  All  the  curiosities  of  the  church-yard  now 
vanished.  The  egg  I  did  not  dispute,  for  a  goose  was 
quietly  seated  on  a  nest  in  the  corner,  and  a  hen  had 
just  left  her's  under  the  cupboard,  and  was  cackling 
about  the  room.  The  mother  put  a  basket  of  potatoes 
into  a  tub,  and  washed  them  with  her  feet,  and  sus- 
pended them  over  the  fire  to  boil  for  supper.  Every- 
thing was  in  train  for  a  repast,  but  making  my  exit  as 
civilly  as  I  could,  after  heartily  thanking  them  (for 
their  hospitality  could  not  be  disputed),  my  lodgings 
were  reached,  with  an  escort  which  had  increased  from 
cabin  to  cabin,  and  from  passengers  on  the  way  ;  some 
asking  for  books,  some  inquiring  about  America,  and 
one  among  the  better  learned  asked,  "  What  I  thought 
of  the  '  Blessed  Virgin.^' "  "  This  will  cut  the  gar- 
ment," retorted  a  woman.  "  As  ye  think  of  the  mo- 
ther, so  ye'd  love  the  Son,  and  if  yer  tracts  say  nothin' 
of  her,  we  would  not  read  'em."  I  found  in  this  town 
more  suspicion  that  my  books  were  dangerous,  than  in 
any  other.  The  just  reason  was,  that  a  well-meaning 
person,  with  more  zeal  than  knowledge,  had  scattered 
through  it  tracts,  treating  entirely  on  controversial 
points  between  Romanism  and  Protestantism ;  which 
so  aroused  the  bishop,  that  he  had  issued  an  edict  that 
no  book  or  tract  should  be  received  from  a  Protestant, 
unless  its  contents  were  first  ascertained  to  be  of  the 
genuine  kind.  Happily  for  me,  mine  were  unexcep- 
tionable, and  when  they  found  that  neither  my  books 
nor  myself  were  designed  to  proselyte  them  to  a  party, 
but  lead  them  to  Christ,  they  rejoiced  exceedingly,  and 
received  the  books  with  great  cordiality  during  my  whole 
stay  in  the  place. 

Saturday. — Hesitated    how  to    pass    the    day ;    my 
dread  of  going  out  upon  the  street  was  greater  in  Kil- 
14 


314  CO.  OF  KERRY.  [chap.xviii. 

larney  than  in  any  other  town ;  though  it  is  a  place 
where  strangers  constantly  resort,  it  would  seem  that  I 
was  a  more  interesting  spectacle  than  any  whatever. 
My  coat  was  made  of  good  cloth  and  in  the  newest 
fashion,  my  bonnet  was  the  same,  but  my  muflf  was 
black  and  large,  and  thinking  that  the  coat  might  be  a 
little  novel  to  the  peasantry,  and  the  muff  a  fright,  I 
resolved  that  morning  to  avoid  all  occasion  of  offence. 
The  post-office  was  the  place  of  destination,  and  put- 
ting on  a  cloak  which  the  peasantry  wear  both  in 
winter  and  summer,  and  leaving  the  muff  behind,  I 
went  out  quite  early,  hoping  to  escape  unmolested. 
Not  so ;  my  fate  was  fixed.  Men,  boys,  women,  and 
girls,  were  on  the  spot,  who  all  regulated  their  move- 
ments in  unison  with  mine.  If  I  hastened  my  pace, 
they  did  the  same  ;  if  I  walked  slowly,  they  did  so 
too  ;  and  if  I  stopped,  this  was  still  more  favorable 
for  the  gaping.  It  was  market-day,  and  a  fresh 
recruit  was  on  the  field  ;  some  dropped  their  sacks 
and  hurried  on,  lest  I  might  be  too  quick  for  them  ; 
others,  with  baskets  and  buckets  on  their  heads, 
managed  so  adroitly  as  to  draw  up  to  the  spot  in  good 
time,  near  where  they  supposed  I  was  going.  Reaching 
the  post-office,  I  paused  and  seriously  asked  a  country- 
man, who  was  leisurely  surveying  me  from  head  to  foot, 
"  How  do  you  like  my  looks  ?  Don't  you  think  me  a 
queer  looking  woman .'" 

"  By  dad,  ye're  a  dacent  lookin'  body,"  said  he. 

I  dropped  in  my  letter,  and  with  a  hurried  step  walked 
away,  when  a  huckster  woman  bawled  out,  "  She's  a 
beautiful  wawlker,  God  bless  her." 

What  could  I  do,  what  should  I  do,  with  this  inde- 
scribable annoyance  of  being  followed  through  the  town, 
over  hedges,  and  even  into  burying-grounds,  to  be  gaped 
at }  The  misery  was  enhanced  by  knowing  that  this 
proceeded  from  no  ill  motive  whatever,  for  they 
would  have  protected  me  at  the  risk  of  their  own  safety, 
and  1  hated  myself  that  my  sensibilities  were  such, 
that  I  could  not  be  more  patient  under  the  unavoidable 
ordeal. 


UHAP.  xviii.]  CO.  OF  KERRY.  315 

We  will  now,  reader,  escape  the  market-women  and 
visit  Lord  Kenmare's  deer  park.  At  the  gate  a  more 
than  ordinary  looking  woman  met  me,  and  in  a  plea- 
sant manner  invited  me  into  her  cottage.  It  was 
cleanly,  and  she  was  tidily  dressed,  and  had  no  occa- 
sion to  say  she  had  been  "  better  rair'd."  She  was 
religious,  and  when  she  learned  my  object  to  Ireland, 
in  admiration  she  exclaimed,  "  Blessed  Jesus,  make  me 
thankful,  and  bless  and  protect  her !  The  people  in 
Kerry,  ma'am,  are  very  dark  ;  some  of  them  are  mar- 
ried, and  can't  say  the  Lord's  prayer.  I  bless  God 
that  he  sent  you  to  Ireland.  And  what  can  I  do  for 
you  ?  I  have  nothing  to  give  a  stranger,  a  lady  like 
you.  I  am  sitting  desolate  and  alone  in  my  cabin.  My 
husband  is  dead,  my  children  are  gone,  and  I  keep  this 
little  cottage  at  the  gate  for  my  bit  of  bread.'' 

I  read  a  tract  to  her  called  the  "  Worth  of  a  Dollar," 
and  presented  it  to  her.  She  clasped  it,  raising  her 
hands  and  eyes,  saying,  "  Is  this  a  present  for  me  ?  I 
was  going  to  ask  where  one  could  be  bought,  and  now 
you  have  given  it  to  me.  I  have  a  friend  who  loves 
the  world  too  much,  and  this  is  the  book  I'll  give  him 
to  read.  I've  often  told  him  he'd  lose  his  soul  if  he 
didn't  let  go  the  world."  She  was  not  ignorant  of  the 
Word  of  God,  and  repeated  some  Scripture,  though 
she  had  no  Bible.  I  presented  her  with  the  Douay 
gospels,  and  read  some  portions  to  her,  when  with  em- 
phasis she  exclaimed,  "  It  is  good,  but  where  is  the 
*  Blessed  Virgin  ?'  Didn't  she  bring  forth  the  blessed 
Saviour,  and  didn't  she  wrap  him  in  swaddling  clothes 
in  a  manger,  and  didn't  the  breath  of  oxen  warm  his 
blessed  body.'"  The  expression  was  new,  simple,  and 
touching. 

She  showed  me  the  best  walk  through  the  park  to 
find  the  glen  behind  it,  and  heaped  renewed  blessings 
on  my  head,  for  leaving  her  the  books.  Walking 
a  little  distance,  some  laboring  men  saw  me,  and  in- 
forming them  I  was  an  American,  and  asking  the  way 
to  the  glen,  one  dropped  his  spade,  and  in  spite  of  re- 


316^  CO.  OF  KERRY.  [chap,  xviii. 

monstrance,  would  show  me  to  the  gate,  lest  I  should 
^'go  astray."  The  law  of  kindness  is  most  indelibly 
written  on  these  poor  peasants'  hearts.  If  they  meet  a 
stranger,  and  need  require,  they  will  give  to  the  utmost, 
they  will  do  to  the  utmost,  and  not  let  him  know  they 
have  made  any  sacrifice. 

Glens  had  been  my  peculiarly  pleasant  walks  in 
Ireland,  but  here  I  was  in  a  way  to  get  too  much.  I 
followed  a  clear  stream  for  a  mile  or  more,  and  saw  no 
outlet.  Darkness  was  gathering,  and  my  prospects 
were  not  the  brightest  ;  at  length  a  bridge  led  me 
across  the  stream,  through  the  glen,  to  a  deep  ditch, 
on  the  top  of  which  was  a  fence  made  of  poles.  Down 
the  ascent  of  the  ditch  on  the  other  side  was  a  crazy 
ladder  made  of  sticks,  and  to  reach  this  I  must  climb 
and  cross  the  fence.  The  risk  looked  dubious,  and  I 
walked  away,  ascended  the  hill,  but  could  find  no  out- 
let ;  returned,  and  resolved  to  make  the  efi'ort,  much 
fearing  the  second  part  to  the  fall  made  a  few  days  be- 
fore. Throwing  my  muff  and  parasol  before  me,  1  made 
the  leap,  and  happily  succeeded.  A  long  walk  was  be- 
fore me,  and — 

"Wide  o'er  the  scene  her  tints  grey  evening  flings," 

but  one  happy  reflection  was,  that  I  should  escape  the 
staring  in  town  by  the  darkness.      And  so  it  proved. 

Sabbath  morning  early,  taking  my  Bible  and  a  few 
tracts,  visited  Ross  Island.  Entered  a  cottage  in  a 
wild  part  of  it,  gave  the  son  and  daughter  each  a  small 
book,  when  the  mother  in  kindness  asked  me  to  walk 
in  and  see  a  child  who  was  sick  with  the  small-pox.  I 
assured  her  I  had  no  desire  to  become  acquainted  with 
the  sraall-pox  in  this  way.  "  The  disease  is  in  Killar- 
ney  entirely."  Leaving  the  door,  I  seated  myself  on  a 
rustic  seat  by  the  side  of  the  lake,  and  enjoyed  a  Sab- 
bath hour,  with  the  Word  of  God  and  the  book  of 
nature  before  me,  opened  to  as  bright  a  page  as  the 
volume  could  produce.  For  Killarney  is  not  evanes- 
cent in  her  friendship,  pleasant  and  cordial  to-day,  as 


CHAP.  XVIII.]  CO.  OF  KERRY.  317 

is  often  said  of  the  nation,  and  to-morrow  unkind 
and  forbidding.  These  lakes  and  this  scenery  never 
can  tire  ;  a  spot  where  "  Nature  wears  her  sweetest 
smile." 

But  I  must  leave  this  temple  of  God,  this  open  air 
adoration,  and  take  my  reader  to  a  little  church,  to 
hear  a  short  discourse,  from  "  Enter  in  at  the  strait 
gate."  The  little  company  that  attended  was  not  the 
best  comment  on  the  success  of  gospel  truth,  though 
the  worshippers  appeared  devout. 

At  six  o'clock,  taking  as  usual  tracts  and  books,  I 
went  to  the  gate-house  of  Lord  Kenmare.  Here  was 
a  family  of  children,  who  had  been  well  educated  for 
the  peasantry,  and  giving  a  book  to  one,  it  was  read 
audibly,  and  received  that  hearty  response  that  every 
subject  treating  on  benevolence  ever  does  among  the 
poor  of  Ireland.  Charity  is  the  alpha  and  omega, 
the  sum  total  of  all  that  makes  the  man  or  woman, 
with  these  people.  Without  it  your  religion,  whether 
Roman  or  Protestant,  is  but  as  sounding  brass  or  a 
tinkling  cymbal.  And  a  distinguishing  feature  which 
cannot  be  too  much  admired,  is,  that  when  they  give, 
they  give  unsparingly  from  their  pittance,  and  when 
they  receive,  they  do  it  with  as  much  thankfulness, 
when  the  smallest  trifle  is  ofi'ered,  as  when  the  dona- 
tion is  quite  bountiful.  While  the  child  was  reading 
the  story  the  potatoes  were  preparing,  and  milk  and 
eggs  put  on,  and  I  was  invited  to  "  the  egg  and  sup  of 
milk,  ma'am,  but  you  couldn't  take  the  potatoe."  I  had 
taken  supper,  but  never  declined  a  potatoe,  and  always 
took  it  in  my  hand,  which  to  them  was  as  sure  a  test 
of  good-will  and  sincerity  on  my  part,  as  are  the  grip 
and  well-known  pass- word  to  the  initiated  brother 
mason. 

As  I  went  out  four  little  girls  were  at  the  gate, 
where  they  had  been  waiting  an  hour  to  ask  for  books. 
"  It's  the  Word  of  God  I  want,"  said  one,  '^  which  you 
promised  me  last  Friday.  I  went  to  your  place  at 
six,  as  you  told  me,  and  they  sent  me  to  the  gate,  and 


318  CO.  OF  KERRY.  [chap,  xviii. 

I  have  been  waiting  an  hour,  ma'am.  And  have  you  got 
the  Word  of  God  for  me  now.'  it's  that  I  want."  . 

"  I  am  not  certain  but  you  will  destroy  it  if  I  give 
you  one." 

"  Destroy  the  Word  of  God  !  Who  would  dare  do 
that.?" 

A  woman  now  interfered,  "  And  what's  this  you're 
saying  r  If  you  touch  one  of  her  books,  Fll  tell  the 
bishop."  The  bishop's  house  was  at  our  left,  but  a  few 
yards  distant.  "  He  has  told  us  we  must  not  touch  a 
Protestant  book."  "  I  don't  care  if  you  do  tell  the 
bishop.  If  I  can  get  the  Word  of  God,  I'll  read  it." 
This  was  plain  English,  and  then  turning  to  me,  "I 
know,  lady,  you'll  give  it  to  me.  You  said  you  would." 
"  But,"  continued  the  woman,  "  they  are  the  same 
books  that  the  Protestant  man  had,  to  put  down  the 
church,  and  speak  against  our  religion."  Turning  to 
the  woman,  and  telling  her  I  had  no  books  but  what  the 
bishop  would  approve,  and  that  they  were  Irish  and 
Douay  Testaments,  &c.,  she  begged  pardon,  and  walked 
on,  the  little  girl  exulting  said,  "  There,  I  knew  the 
lady  was  right." 

When  we  reached  the  lodging-house,  the  Testaments 
and  books  were  presented  ;  but  by  no  urging  would  the 
girl  be  persuaded  to  take  any  books  but  the  Scriptures, 
though  she  was  told  they  contained  beautiful  stories, 
and  were  handsomely  covered.  "  It's  the  Word  of  God 
I  want,  and  nothing  else,"  was  the  only  answer,  though 
the  three  others  were  better  pleased  with  a  colored  tract 
than  with  any  other  book. 

The  next  day  was  devoted  by  the  citizens  of  Kil- 
larney  to  St.  Patrick.  At  twelve  the  temperance 
band  awakened  me,  by  playing  very  sweetly  the  air  of 
St.  Patrick's  Day,  reminding  me  of  New  York,  when 
the  Irish  emigrants  there  celebrate  the  day,  rekindle 
old  associations  of  their  beloved  Emerald  Isle,  sing  the 
songs  of  their  native  land,  and  live  over  again  the  bye- 
gone  days  of  the  country  so  dear  to  them.  Early  the 
chapel  bells  called  to  mass,  and  from  every  mountain 


w 


CHAP.  XIX.]  CO.  OF  KERRY.  319 

and  glen  the  people  poured  in,  with  the  green  sham- 
rock in  their  hats,  the  children  with  some  kind  of 
ribbon  upon  the  left  arm,  which  they  called  the 
'^  crass."  Sabbath  was  called  Palm  Sunday,  when  a 
sprig  of  palm  was  carried  to  the  chapel  to  be  blessed,  and 
worn  home  in  the  hat ;  this  was  changed  by  some  on 
Monday  for  the  shamrock.  The  multitude  huddled  to 
mass  three  times  a  day,  and  passed  the  afternoon  and 
evening  looking  upon  each  other,  but  not  in  quar- 
relling or  drinking.  To  avoid  the  staring  without, 
and  the  throno-ed  house  within,  I  ao;ain  visited  the 
park,  and  under  a  shady  oak  should  have  enjoyed 
a  sweet  sleep,  with  my  muff  for  a  pillow,  had  not  the 
gate-woman  found  and  invited  me  in.  Another  treat 
of  reading  she  enjoyed,  but  declined  taking  any  books, 
lest  the  bishop  should  punish  her.  Reading  to  these 
people  what  they  can  understand,  and  what  they  should 
practise,  is  the  best  mode  of  access,  and  the  surest  way 
to  do  good.  Having  few  or  no  books  of  their  own, 
and  many  not  being  able  to  read  at  all,  a  story  of 
practical  piety,  a  clear  and  pungent  explanation  of  the 
most  essential  doctrines  connected  with  the  life  and 
atonement  of  Christ,  are  listened  to  with  the  deepest 
interest.  And  not  unfrequently  will  the  sower  find,  if 
he  watch  the  growth,  that  the  seed  has  sprung  up, 
promising  a  fruitful  harvest. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


Fellow  Travellers  on  the  Kerry  Mountains— Bay  of  Ross  by  Moonlight—"  Fine 
Stage-honse" — Loss  of  Appetite — Feet-bathing  Extraordinary — Kerry  Trick 
— Glorious  Mornina:  0:1  the  Mountains,  in  spite  of  Hunger  and  Weariness — 
Cabin  Courtesy — Women  a  Beast  of  Burden — Lodging-house  at  Cahirciveen — 
A  Saucepan  an  Uualtainable  Luxury — Religion  and  Filth — G-uests  to  the 
Fair — Curly-headed  Biddy — Battle  of  the  Sticks — Sabbath  Services — Protes- 
tant Whiskey-Selling— Improved  Quarters. 

Tuesday.)  March   18th. — I   concluded  to   go  west,  and 
visit  Cahirciveen,  a  distance   of  thirty  miles  j  to  walk 


93»  CO.  OF  KERRY.  [chap.  xix. 

the  first  ten,  and  wait  for  the  car  till  next  morning  at 
the  town  of  Killorglin.  I  soon  had  company,  and  a 
call  for  books  from  every  peasant  who  passed,  hav- 
ing a  basket  on  my  arm,  and  some  tracts  upon  the 
outside.  "  An'  maybe  you've  somethin'  that's  nice," 
said  one ;  giving  him  a  tract,  he  read  with  much 
attention,  "  an'  sure  you  don't  give  these  ?  There's 
not  many  the  like  of  ye.  Ye  must  be  from  England." 
"  From  America,"  I  said.  "  From  America !  and 
what  brought  ye  here  among  the  poor  .^"  When  the 
object  was  explained,  '^  then  ye  must  be  wawkin'  for 
the  good  of  your  soul."  This  I  often  found  the  most 
difficult  part  of  the  story  to  be  understood.  If  penance 
were  not  the  object,  what  could  induce  me  to  put  so 
much  trouble  on  myself  ? 

A  kind  parting  left  me  with  a  countryman,  who  was 
going  to  the  same  town  with  a  load  of  flour,  and 
heavily  as  his  cart  was  burdened,  he  insisted  on  my 
taking  a  seat.  "  The  wawkin'  'ill  be  heavy  on  ye."  I 
declined,  but  put  my  basket  on  his  cart,  and  he  carried 
it  till  we  reached  the  miserable  dirty  town  of  Killor- 
glin. This  shrewd  Kerryman  displayed  much  of  that 
common-sense  observation,  and  inquisitiveness,  so 
peculiar  in  the  peasantry  of  all  Ireland,  but  especially 
in  the  Kerryites.  We  reached  the  filthy  town,  and 
finding  no  better  stopping-place  than  a  public-house, 
where  a  woman  was  dealing  out  the  "  good  creature," 
and  so  forbidding  were  her  looks  and  everything  in 
keeping,  that,  though  rain  began  to  fall,  I  resolved  to 
go  on  eight  miles  further,  where  the  teamster  was 
going  that  night,  rather  than  wait  for  the  car  next 
morning.  I  was  now  getting  into  the  heart  and 
essence  of  Kerry,  the  land  of  O'Connell,  the  country 
noted  for  the  inquisitive  disposition  and  cunning  of 
the  peasantry.  And  though  it  would  be  absurd  to 
suppose  that  a  county  line  could  designate  the  charac- 
ter and  habits  of  a  people,  yet  throughout  all  Ireland 
there  is  one  grand  feature  telling  you  who  is  Irish,  and 
definite  minor  ones  telling  the  stranger  there  are  dif- 
ferent children  belonging  to  this  common  stock,  who 


CHAP.  XIX.]  eO.  OF  KERRY.  381 

speak  different  languages,  and  wear  different  costumes. 
The  Kerryites  are  said  to  have  a  mixture  of  the 
Spanish,  who  many  years  ago  found  their  way  among 
these  mountains,  and  the  Kerry  women  have  black  or 
dark  hair,  and  in  general  are  quite  handsome. 

1  had  not  walked  far  before  I  "  cast  longing  linger- 
ing looks  behind."  My  feet  were  blistered,  the  road 
stony,  and  the  rain  threatening.  Often  I  sat  down 
upon  the  stones  by  the  way-side,  feeling  quite  unable  to 
proceed.  I  could  get  nothing  to  eat,  and  my  break- 
fast had  been  a  light  one,  and  my  condition  was  not  the 
most  desirable. 

Night  came  on.  My  companion  had  met  with  a  fel- 
low-traveller of  the  same  craft,  taking  a  load  of  flour 
to  the  town,  and  each  man  lit  his  pipe,  and  jabbered  in 
Irish  to  my  full  content  ;  having  me  sometimes  in 
sight,  and  sometimes  out  of  sight,  sometimes  far  in  the 
rear,  sometimes  in  spaking  distance,  when  my  com- 
panion would  call,  "  and  sure  ye  aint  wairy  ;  and 
when  we've  crassed  the  stones  a  bit,  ye'll  have  a  lift  on 
the  cart,"  or,  "  it's  a  fine  stage-house  ye'll  see  as  there 
is  in  all  the  three  kingdoms."  The  name  of  a  stage- 
house,  to  an  American  car,  is  associated  with  all  that 
is  comfort ;  and  hearing  that  it  was  an  Englishman  that 
kept  it,  I  was  buoyed  up  with  the  hope  that  1  should 
meet  with  a  clean  cheerful  hearth,  good  bread,  and 
clean  lodging,  for  never  did  a  weary  traveller  deserve 
them  more. 

The  clouds  had  dispersed,  and  the  young  moon  was 
looking  from  as  pure  a  sky  as  was  ever  spread  out  over 
this  misty  isle  of  the  sea.  The  Bay  of  Ross,  with  all 
its  witchery,  arose  in  view.  A  little  mountain  girl 
had  met  me  from  a  foot-path  that  led  among  the  rocks, 
and  as  we  suddenly  made  a  turn,  which  opened  the 
bay  unexpectedly,  "  and  ye'll  have  as  fine  a  bay, 
ma'am,  in  yer  eye  as  in  all  the  kingdom,"  fell  on  my 
ear.     1  stopped  suddenly,  and  on  either  hand 

"  Bold  and  craggy  rose  each  mountain  form, 
To  brave  the  heavens,  the  lightning,  and  the  storm," 
14* 


322  CO.  OF  KERRY.  [chap.  xix. 

The  girl,  seeing  my  admiration,  triumphantly  added, 
*'  and  did  ye  see  the  like  in  all  your  travels,  ma'am  ?  I 
must  leave  ye,  lady,  for  my  way  lies  up  the  mountain 
a  bit,  and  ye'U  not  be  lonely,  for  the  moon  looks  bright, 
and  the  road  is  now  aisy  to  the  fut.  Good  night,  and 
God  speed  ye  on  yer  journey,  and  return  ye  safe  to  yer 
own  country." 

Through  all  this  I  had  stood  on  the  margin  of  that 
bay,  looking  up  the  heathy  crags,  then  upon  the  placid 
sea,  that  was  here  and  there  reflecting  the  rays  of  the 
moon,  then  deep  shaded  by  some  cliflf  that  looked  down 
upon  it,  sheltering  some  fisherman's  mud-wall  hut  at 
its  foot.  I  uttered  not  a  word,  till  the  "good  night" 
of  the  Kerry-girl  awaked  me  from  the  reverie.  Her 
light  foot  stole  quickly  away,  and  I  was  standing  alone, 
for  my  carmen  were  jabbering  far  out  of  sight.  Tak- 
ing my  cruel  boots  from  my  blistered  feet,  J  hurried 
on  till  the  voice  of  one  of  my  fellow-travellers  bawled 
out,  "  and  sure  ye  aint  a  gazin'  at  these  black  moun- 
tains, it's  the  pratee  and  the  night's  sleep  I  am  thinkin' 
on."  Again  I  sat  down  upon  a  stone,  put  on  my  boots, 
and  determined  to  make  a  "  virtue  of  necessity,"  en- 
deavored, as  I  followed  the  cart,  to  forget  my  pains 
by  singing.  This,  to  my  wonder,  drew  upon  the  hill 
sides  and  path,  groups  of  all  ages,  where  I  had  scarcely 
noticed  a  cabin,  giving  me  a  moonlight  view  of 
mountaineers  and  fishermen,  who  followed  me  with 
good  wishes,  and  comforted  my  spirits  by  telling  me  of 
the  "  short  bit"  that  was  "  under  my  fut,"  and  the 
"  dacent  people"  I  should  find  at  the  lodging.  My 
Kerry  guide  had  intentionally  passed  the  stage-house, 
and  stopping  to  rest  his  horse  at  the  top  of  a  hill, 
pointed  around,  saying,  "  at  your  left  a  short  bit  and 
ye'll  see  the  lodgin'." 

Here  I  pause,  for  we  were  in  view  of  this  "  decent 
lodgin',"  and  a  little  time  is  requisite  to  gird  ourselves 
for  the  coming  conflict. 

Supposing  I  was  approaching  the  "tidy  stage- 
house,"  my  steps  were  accelerated,  and  looking  on  my 
left  I  gaw  a  thatched  house  of  considerable  dimensions, 


CHAP.  XIX.]  CO.  OF  KERRY. 


and  a  pile  of  well  packed  manure  at  the  door.  Here 
stood  two  goats  and  a  ram,  each  with  a  stout  pair  of 
horns,  and  the  ram  was  using  his  with  much  dexterity 
against  a  spirited  girl,  who  was  pulling  and  beating  the 
"bold  blackguard,"  to  get  him  aside,  that  the  "  lady- 
might  come  in."  I  stood  at  a  respectful  distance  till 
the  battle  was  decided  in  favor  of  the  girl  and  myself, 
and  looking  in,  saw  a  cow  fastened  at  the  entrance, 
standing  upon  straw  and  filth,  and  her  young  calf  to  the 
right,  near  the  fire.  The  smoke  was  making  its  way  as 
well  as  it  could  through  the  door,  eight  beings  in  the 
shape  of  men  were  lolling  upon  a  settee  and  benches, 
with  one  stretched  at  full  length  upon  a  table,  his  head 
hanging  off  at  one  end,  and  the  mother,  three 
daughters,  the  two  teamsters,  and  myself,  with  geese, 
and  hens  at  roost,  made  up  the  group  in  the  room  and 
about  the  fireside  of  this  '•'■  stage  house."  The  whole 
together  was  so  complete  an  overthrow  of  all  my  expec- 
tations of  an  Englishman's  lodgings,  that  what  with 
my  miserable  feet,  empty  stomach,  and  prospects  for 
the  night,  I  was  quite  indignant,  and  pettishly  de- 
manded of  the  consequential  landlord  why  he  lived  with 
his  cattle  in  the  house,  when  I  saw  he  had  a  barn 
near. 

"  The  cow  his  a  new  calf,  ma'am,  and  she's  warmer 
in  the  house." 

My  senior  comrade  now  ordered  a  pot  of  potatoes, 
which  were  soon  in  preparation,  carried  to  an  adjoining 
room,  and  a  splinter  of  dry  bog-wood  put  into  a  crack 
over  the  table  as  a  torch  to  guide  the  way  to  the 
mouth.  I  was  invited  to  walk  in,  but  though  I  had 
not  taken  any  food  but  a  piece  of  bread  early  in  the 
morning  at  Killarney,  and  had  walked  twenty-five  miles 
over  the  roughest  path  I  had  ever  trod  in  Ireland 
upon  the  strength  of  that,  yet  the  sight  within  the 
walls  of  that  cabin  hushed  the  clamor  of  my  sto- 
mach, and  I  left  my  fellow  travellers  to  sup  alone. 
The  master  of  the  house  entertained  me  with  a  his- 
torical account  of  Dublin,  which  he  once  visited, 
assuring   me    it   wa.s   twenty   miles   across,  containing 


CO.  OF  KERRY.  [chip.  iix. 


sixteen  hundred  public  houses  of  entertainment,  and 
the  laws  very  strict.  No  persons  meeting  on  the  walks 
•were  allowed  to  shake  hands  ;  if  they  did  so  they  were 
immediately  put  in  prison  ;  he  had  seen  it  done  repeat- 
edly. This  bundle  of  lies  was  well  received  by  the  au- 
ditors, as  this  man  was  quite  an  oracle  of  the  mountains  ; 
and  modestly  telling  him  that  his  statements  were  all 
untrue,  we  turned  to  another  subject. 

My  feet  needing  bathing,  the  pot  which  had  been  used 
for  the  boiling  of  the  potatoes  was  presented,  and  in 
presence  of  the  ten  male  eye-witnesses  gathered  about, 
the  girl  who  fought  the  battle  with  the  ram  washed 
my  feet  in  spite  of  all  remonstrance,  the  father  and  mo- 
ther urging  my  consent  as  being  a  duty  to  a  "  wairy 
stranger."  While  this  was  in  progress,  the  father 
whispered  a  second  daughter  to  "  put  on  the  featherbed 
for  the  lady,"  and  in  a  half  hour  my  bed-room  was  in 
readiness,  with  another  splinter  of  bog-wood  put  into  a 
crack  to  light  me  on  'the  way  thither.  This  bed-room 
contained  three  beds  for  father  and  mother,  three  daugh- 
ters, and  myself.  I  was  allowed  to  retire  first,  the  same 
attendant  standing  by  in  real  primitive  fashion,  to  help 
me  to  undress.  The  washing  of  the  feet  of  strangers 
and  guests  is,  in  these  mountains  and  glens  of  Ire- 
land, a  literal  and  beautiful  illustration  of  our  Saviour's 
example,  "  So  ought  ye  to  wash  one  another's  feet." 
They  will  not  allow  you  to  perform  this  ofiice  yourself, 
without  an  absolute  refusal ;  and  then,  with  apparent 
disappointment,  they  stand  aloof,  as  if  deprived  r5f  a 
most  desired  favor.  The  custom  of  an  attendant  to 
help  the  stranger  undress,  is  mentioned  by  Henderson  in 
his  visit  to  Iceland,  where  the  mother  or  eldest  daughter 
claims  the  honor  ;  and  though  the  unaccustomed  stran- 
ger may  at  first  feel  it  an  intrusion,  yet  the  fastidious- 
ness is  soon  relieved  by  the  simple  unstudied  manner  in 
which  it  is  done. 

In  half  an  hour  all  were  snoring  around  me,  and 
soon  my  troubles  found  a  quietus,  which  lasted  till 
five,  when  my  Kerryite  stood  at  the  bed-side  with  a 
bog-wood  torch.     "  And  may  be  ye  wouldn't  like  to  go 


CHIP,  iix.]  CO.  OF  KERRY.  335 

on  so  airly  ?"  Saying  ''  Yes," — "  An'  in  the  name  of 
God  we'll  go  on," — 1  hurried  up,  and  lo  !  he  was  gone, 
and  I  have  not  seen  him  since  !  This  I  was  told  was 
genuine  Kerry  roguery,  done  for  the  sole  purpose  of  en- 
joying to  himself  the  gratification  of  my  surprise  and 
bustling  to  hurry  on,  and  join  his  company. 

I  paid  a  shilling  for  this  rare  treat,  and  hurried  to 
catch  the  first  gleaming  of  light  upon  these  towering 
heath-topped  mountains.  The  sea  again  broke  upon  my 
view,  the  road  was  made  upon  a  mountain  so  steep,  that 
a  stone  wall  was  necessary  to  keep  the  traveller  safe, 
and  the  look  down  into  the  sea  in  many  places  was  truly 
terrific.  A  solitary  star  was  here  and  there  twinkling 
in  the  west,  a  mountain-top  behind  me  was  white  with 
snow,  and  as  the  morning  advanced,  the  rays  of  the 
sun  shot  athwart  it,  and  rested  upon  the  smooth  surface 
of  the  sea,  leaving  a  heavy  shadow  from  the  mountain 
beneath,  giving  a  picture  of  light  and  shade  which  the 
painter  could  alone  delineate.  The  varied  color  of  the 
purple,  grey,  and  brown  of  the  mountain,  the  wildness, 
the  song  of  the  morning  bird,  the  "  Alps  on  Alps"  ris- 
ing to  view,  the  cascades  of  the  most  sparkling  crystal 
gurgling  from  their  sides,  transported  me  beyond  loneli- 
ness, hunger,  or  pain  of  blistered  feet,  and  at  short  in- 
tervals I  was  fixed  to  the  spot  as  when  looking  on  the 
moonlight  view  the  preceding  night.  I  occasionally 
mixed  my  rude  voice  with  the  song  of  the  bird  and 
music  of  the  mountain  waterfall,  and  with  a  heart  full 
of  thanksgiving,  did  I  bless  the  God  of  love,  that  he 
had  made  this  isle  of  the  sea.  Persecuted  and  hated 
as  it  is,  it  has  riches  of  scenery,  riches  of  minerals,  and 
riches  of  mind,  which  all  others  might  covet. 

For  hours  the  scenery,  though  continually  varying, 
lost  none  of  its  interest,  and  I  had  walked  five  miles  of 
Irish  measure  of  such  painful  enjoyment,  before  the 
clamors  of  hunger  told  me  that  I  had  taken  no  bread 
since  seven  on  the  preceding  morning,  and  here  no 
bread  could  be  found.  Not  a  cabin  had  greeted  my 
eye,  save  a  little   clump  of  mud  wall  or   rough  stone 


326  CO.  OP  KERRY.  [chap.  xix. 

huts,  where  bread  would  have  been  as  strange  a  guest 
as  a  plum  pudding  in  the  kraal  of  a  Hottentot.  Ex- 
citement, which  had  thus  far  been  a  kind  vehicle,  now 
gave  way,  and  weariness,  pain,  and  hunger,  demanded 
their  rights.  Seeing  a  little  girl  dip  her  bucket  in  a 
clear  mountain  stream,  I  saluted  her.  "  And  ye  look 
wairy,  lady,  wouldn't  ye  walk  in  and  rest  ye  a  little  by 
the  fire  r"  Gladly  I  followed  into  the  lowly  but  clean 
cabin,  and  was  offered  the  only  seat  in  the  room,  and 
that  was  made  of  braided  straw  in  the  shape  of  a  cush- 
ion. They  tried  in  every  possible  way  to  comfort  me, 
offering  to  bathe  my  feet.  Telling  them  a  piece  of 
bread  was  what  I  wanted  to  buy,  the  girl,  the  only  one 
that  could  speak  English  in  the  family,  told  me  I  could 
not  get  any  for  some  miles.  "  But  wouldn't  ye*top  and 
have  a  potatoe  r  they  will  boil  in  a  little  bit."  I  cheer- 
fully consented,  and  that  cabin  will  ever  be  associated 
with  the  deepest  and  kindliest  recollections.  Two  girls, 
a  son  of  twenty,  and  the  father  and  mother,  made  up 
this  family.  While  the  potatoes  were  boiling,  I  read 
the  Testament,  the  girl  interpreting  to  the  mother,  who 
in  tears  of  gratitude  was  expressing  her  admiration  both 
at  the  reading,  and  at  the  goodness  of  God,  who  had 
suffered  a  saint  going  on  pilgrimage,  as  she  thought,  to 
enter  her  humble  cabin.  "  She's  crying,  ma'am,  be- 
cause she  can't  do  as  much  for  her  soul  as  you."  Here, 
as  in  many  parts  of  the  country,  it  was  difficult  to  make 
them  believe  that  I  was  not  some  holy  St.  Bridget,  go- 
ing on  penance. 

The  old  man  was  in  bed,  had  been  a  cripple  for 
years  with  the  rheumatism  ;  he  had  listened  to  the 
reading,  for  he  would  occasionally  clasp  his  hands, 
and  respond  in  Irish.  He  crawled  out,  and  drew  on 
his  frightful  rags,  knelt  down  and  said  his  prayers, 
and  by  a  smile,  nod  of  the  head,  and  hearty  grasp  of 
the  hand,  gave  me  a  kindly  welcome  to  his  cabin. 
The  potatoes  were  boiled,  and  poured  into  a  basket  ;  a 
board  was  then  put  upon  the  top  of  the  pot  for  a  table, 
and  the  potatoes  poured  upon  it,  and  the  family  drew 
around,  giving  mf»  a  commodious  place.     We  had  com- 


CHAP.  XIX.]  CO.  OF  KERRY.  327 

foitablj  adjusted  ourselves,  when  the  delighted  old 
man  took  an  egg  from  a  hen  who  was  sitting  near,  and 
reaching  it  to  me,  made  signs  that  I  must  have  it  boiled. 
His  countenance  changed  into  regret  when  I  declined, 
and  I  was  sorry  that  my  appetite  should  then  refuse  so 
cheerfully  an  offered  boon.  But  toasting  some  potatoes 
on  the  coals,  and  eating  them  without  any  condiment, 
for  they  had  not  even  salt,  I  made  a  good  and  palatable 
breakfast.  I  gave  some  books  to  the  children  who  came 
in,  and  offered  the  woman  a  little  money  for  her  hospi- 
tality ;  she  thrust  it  back,  giving  a  frown  of  half  anger 
and  half  grief,  and  the  daughter  said,  "  She  gave  ye 
the  potatoes  in  the  name  of  God,  and  d'ye  think  we'd 
take  money  for  it  V  I  put  it  in  the  old  man's  hand, 
who  told  the  daughter,  *'  J  will  take  it  for  God's  sake, 
but  not  for  the  potatoe."  Here  I  found  another  proof 
of  the  custom  among  all  the  peasantry,  to  refuse  money 
for  hospitality  shown  to  a  stranger  ;  and  I  gave  books, 
which  were  never  refused,  when  presented  as  tokens  of 
good  will. 

I  arose  to  depart  with  quite  different  feelings  than 
those  at  the  house  where  1  slept,  for  though  in  the  most 
abject  poverty,  they  seemed  cultivated,  and  full  of 
the  "  milk  of  human  kindness."  Though  their  feet  had 
never  trodden  upon  a  parlor  carpet,  nor  the  delicacies  of 
a  sumptuous  table  ever  crossed  their  lips,  and  though  I 
might  have  been  the  only  female  with  both  bonnet  and 
shoes  that  ever  sat  down  in  their  cabin,  yet  their  man- 
ners savored  more  of  genuine  politeness  than  did  many 
of  the  inmates  of  lordly  houses  in  cities,  boasting  of 
the  greatest  refinement.  When  the  poor  old  man  ex- 
tended his  trembliag  hand,  and  the  daughter,  who  was 
speaker  for  them  all,  pressed  me  to  call  on  my  return, 
I  felt  like  parting  with  friends,  and  said,  "  I  dread  to 
go  alone."  The  daughter  interpreted  to  the  mother, 
who  said,  "  She  won't  go  alone,  God  will  go  with  her." 
The  expression  coming  at  such  a  time,  and  from  such 
a  person,  was  a  word  in  season,  and  as  valuable  to  me 
as  though  it  had  been  dropped  from  the  lips  of  a  di- 
vine. 


328  CO.  OF  KERRY.  [chap.xix. 

I  went  out  with  blessing  upon  blessing  on  my 
head,  and  a  dreadful  day  it  was.  My  lameness 
became  so  intolerable,  that  at  short  intervals  I  was 
obliged  to  sit  down  ;  and  when  this  did  not  refresh 
me,  I  lay  down  upon  a  bank  of  earth  overgrown 
with  grass,  with  my  basket  under  my  head,  feeling 
that  I  could  go  no  further.  Again  rising  and  reaching 
a  spring  of  fresh  water,  I  washed  my  face,  but  this 
did  not  ease  my  pained  feet.  Again  I  lay  down  upon 
the  wall,  with  my  parasol  over  my  face,  when  I  heard 
footsteps,  and  a  female  voice  saying,  "  She's  a  stranger, 
and  wearied  out;  maybe  she's  sick."  "Rouse  her," 
said  the  man.  I  lifted  my  head,  and  saw  a  man  and 
woman  with  a  little  boy,  standing  beside  me.  They 
too  had  travelled  many  a  long  and  weary  mile,  and 
found  this  little  orphan  boy,  who  had  lost  father  and 
mother,  and  was  travelling  to  a  distant  country  where 
he  was  born,  hoping  to  find  a  home.  "  God  help  all 
travellers,"  said  the  woman,  "  I  knew  you  was  a 
foreigner  by  your  dress  and  by  your  tongue."  They 
bestowed  much  pity,  and  left  me ;  again  I  made  an 
effort  ;  a  girl  came  out  of  a  cabin.  "  O,  ye're  kilt,  ye 
can't  reach  the  town,  ye'd  better  stop,  it's  a  long  and 
wairyroad"  The  next  I  met  were  two  young  women. 
Inquiring  the  distance,  one  said,  "  There  is  no  place 
you  can  stop  but  in  some  poor  cabin.  'I  could  give  you 
a  clane  bed,  and  fresh  egg,  but  no  mate,  for  it's  Lent, 
ma'am,  and  we  aint  allowed  to  ate  it.  Ye're  lost,  ye're 
destroyed,  and  ye  can't  get  to  town  ;  it's  a  long  mile  to 
it  now,  ma'am." 

"  She  might  stop  till  her  feet  should  be  hailed,"  said 
the  other,   "  the  cratur." 

Thanking  them  from  my  inmost  heart,  I  thought 
it  best  to  proceed.  The  car  was  now  coming,  and 
with  joy  I  hailed  it.  "  No  room,"  was  the  answer,  and 
onward  was  the  only  alternative.  Reaching  the  bot- 
tom of  the  steep  hill,  two  girls  were  resting  by  a  wall, 
one  with  a  little  bundle,  the  other  with  a  basket  of 
turf ;  to  me  it  looked  sufficiently  weighty  to  make  a 
donkey  stagger.     "  And  do  you,  my  girl,  carry  this  on 


CHAP.  XIX.]  CO.  OF  KERRY.  329 

your  back  ?"  ''  I  does,  ma'am  ;  but  ye  are  wairy,  ma'am, 
and  have  ye  long  to  walk?"  The  girl  with  the  small 
bundle  took  up  my  basket,  and  the  other  adjusted  the 
turf  upon  her  head  ;  this  was  done  by  a  rope  of  straw 
put  in  one  side  of  the  basket,  and  fastened  across  the 
forehead  ;  a  cloth  is  doubled  and  put  over  the  forehead 
first,  that  the  rope  need  not  fret  it.  When  I  looked  at 
this  rosy-faced  girl  of  seventeen  and  saw  the  symme- 
try of  her  features,  the  brilliancy  of  her  eye,  and 
beauty  of  her  teeth,  what  a  pity  and  what  a  sin,  I 
thought,  to  take  such  a  finished  piece  of  God's  work- 
manship and  convert  it  to  a  beast  of  burden  !  Weary 
and  crippled  as  I  was,  my  real  condition  called  for 
fresh  gratitude,  that  I  was  not  born  in  oppressed  Ire- 
land, where  woman  can  never  be  woman  if  not  born  to 
an  earthly  inheritance. 

Asking  the  girl  if  she  was  not  tired  of  my  basket, 
"  O  no,  ma'am,  I  wish  it  was  greater,  if  it  would 
lighten  your  fut."  We  sat  down  upon  a  bank,  and 
taking  the  books  from  my  basket,  I  presented  each  of 
them  with  portions  of  the  Scripture.  Ofi"ering  the  girl 
who  had  carried  them  a  tract,  telling  her  it  contained 
an  interesting  story,  "  I  will  take  the  Word  of  God," 
was  the  answer.  This  "  Word  of  God"  at  the  south 
seems  to  possess  peculiar  value  in  the  minds  of  many 
of  the  peasantry,  in  spite  of  all  training,  and  often 
have  they  not  only  astonished,  but  instructed  me, 
by  the  appropriate  applications  they  have  made  of  this 
Word. 

Can  you  show  me  to  a  neat  lodging  in  Cahirci- 
veen,  where  they  do  not  sell  whiskey  r"  The  girl  with 
the  turf  said,  "  show  her  to  Mickey  M'Gloukin."  "  I 
have  been  thinking  of  that,  and  she  has  rooms,  and  can 
give  her  a  clane  bed,  an'  is  a  nice  approachable  woman." 
This  all  looked  inviting;  but,  following  the  girl  to  the 
door,  I  was  met  by  the  same  dark  and  dirty  room,  the 
same  crowd  of  starers,  with  pipes  and  attendant  appur- 
tenances. Flinging  myself  upon  the  first  stool,  and 
asking  for  lodging,  she  answered,  "  An'  I  wish  1  could 
give    ye    room,  but   the    house  is  all    in    disawrdher, 


330  CO.  OF  ;ltERRY.  [chap.  xix. 

. . — . ♦i! . 

tairin'  it  up."  "  But'^can  you  give  me  a  clean  bed.'" 
"  That  I  can."  ''  And  a  room  where  I  can  be  alone, 
away  from  gapers  who'  are  ready  to  swallow  me  up 
wherever  I  go  .^"  "I  can  give  ye  a  room  to  yourself, 
ma'am." 

So  fatigued  and  faint  was  I,  that  the  two  goats  and 
ram  could  have  had  no  terrors,  had  a  comfortable 
room  and  chair  been  before  me,  rather  than  striving  to 
walk  further. 

"Can  I  get  any  food  in  town.'"'  "You  can;  put 
on  the  kittle,  Biddy,  to  make  some  tay,  and  take  off 
the  pot  of  potatoes."  "  Keep  on  the  pot  of  potatoes,  I 
will  eat  some  of  them:  I  take  no  tea."  "Aw,  and 
where's  the  like  of  ye  .'"'  I  sent  out  and  procured  some 
cocoa,  but  nothing  in  the  house  could  be  found  that 
could  prepare  the  article.  Everything  was  named  be- 
longing to  pot,  kettle,  iron,  copper,  or  tin  ;  but  the 
two-pailful  pot  for  potatoes,  and  the  tay  kettle  for  tay, 
were  the  only  vessels.  "  Run  out,  Biddy,  and  ask 
Kate  for  her  tin  cup."  The  cup  was  procured,  with 
the  injunction  "  not  to  put  it  over  the  fire."  "  And  how 
am  I  to  boil  the  cocoa  if  the  cup  must  not  go  to  the 
fire  .?"  "  And  that  you  can't.  Never  mind,  she  hasn't 
the  sinse." 

My  table  was  in  a  room  where  the  kind  woman  was 
obliged  to  throw  down  straw,  to  keep  my  feet  from  the 
mud  while  eating.  This  woman  was  very  religious  ; 
mass  and  the  rosary  were  all  her  theme.  It  was  the 
last  week  in  Lent,  or  rather  "  Passion  Week,"  and 
"  Passion  Week"  it  was  indeed  to  this  devoted  woman. 
She  talked  of  Holy  Jesus,  the  blessed  Virgin,  inces- 
santly, when  she  was  not  scolding  her  servants  and 
children  to  make  them  more  devout.  When  a  few 
moments  could  be  spared,  she  would  throw  her  cloak 
over  her  head,  run  to  chapel,  return,  and  drop  upon 
her  knees  in  any  part  of  the  house,  bidding  all  to  be 
quiet  till  her  prayers  were  finished.  Taking  occasion 
once  to  say  to  her,  that  Christ  commanded  us  to  pray 
in  secret,  she  looked  with  astonishment  as  though  all 
was  upset ;  and  in  a  half  hour  she  was   dragging  her 


CHAP.  xix.J  CO.  OF  KERRY.  331 

little  girl  of  six  into  a  retired  place  to  say  her  prayers, 
adding,  "  it  will  do  you  no  good  if  you  say  'em  here." 
She  wept  much  when  I  read  some  tracts,  and  regretted 
deeply  that  she  could  not  read  the  Scriptures  ;  "  An' 
ye're  the  one  that  can  read  the  '  Word  of  God.'"  She 
was  a  strange  compound  of  good  and  evil,  and  more  to 
be  pitied  than  derided.  She  seemed  to  hunger  for  what 
she  could  not  obtain,  and  had  ears  to  hear,  but  who 
should  teach  her  ?  "  She  has  done  what  she  could" 
in  her  own  way,  and  could  heaven  be  attained  by 
jumps  and  snatches,  and  "  Passion  Week"  continue 
during  her  earthly  pilgrimage,  this  woman  would  cer- 
tainly be  entitled  to  a  prominent  seat  among  the 
guests.  My  bed  was  a  good  one  and  a  clean  one,  in 
this  she  said  truly  ;  but  the  giving  a  room  to  myself 
was  a  little  slip  of  the  tongue,  for  it  contained  a  bed 
for  herself,  husband,  and  two  children,  besides  another 
in  waiting  the  first  night,  but  the  second  a  goodly  host 
of  Kerrymen  were  on  the  spot.  A  few  moments  before 
one,  I  was  awakened  by  the  clatter  of  three  pairs  of 
heavy  shoes,  and  loud  talking,  and  heard  the  woman 
say,  "  you  can  two  of  you  go  into  the  next  room." 
"  No,  we'll  all  quat  here,"  was  the  reply.  They  did 
*'  quat  here"  at  the  foot  of  my  bed,  and  jabbered  awhile 
in  Irish,  and  then  were  snoring  in  full  chorus  through 
the  night. 

It  would  be  no  more  than  rendering  what  is  just  and 
equal  to  say,  that  I  was  neither  lonesome  nor  afraid 
of  robbers,  and  I  really  believe  that  the  Irish  pea- 
santry are  as  free  from  coveting  "  other  men's  gold, 
or  silver,  or  apparel"  as  it  is  possible  for  a  people  to 
be,  wretched  and  poor  as  they  are.  They  will  ask 
for  a  penny  with  a  very  good  grace,  and  load  you  with 
blessings  when  you  bestow  it,  but  they  neither  upbraid 
when  refused,  nor  seem  envious  at  the  purse  or  equi- 
page of  any  neighbor,  however  heavy  or  splendid  they 
may  be.  "  We  must  be  content  with  what  the  Al- 
mighty God  sends  us,"  or,  "  must  not  fly  in  the 
face   of   God   Almighty,"   seems   not   only  a   current 


CO.  OP  KERRY.  [CHAP.  xix. 


phraseology  in  tlieir  mouth,  but  a  fixed  principle  of  the 
heart. 

On  Saturday  a  fair  was  to  be  held  ;  my  feet  had  im- 
proved a  little,  and  I  should  have  left,  but  rain  came 
on,  and  I  stayed  in  doors.  Friday  night  the  gathering 
from  the  country  commenced,  and  seven  new  lodgers 
required  some  little  change,  and  I  was  removed  into  the 
gang-way  at  the  head  of  the  stairs,  where  all  must  pass 
on  the  way  to  bed.  When  each  had  gone  to  his  lair,  I 
went  to  mine,  and  when  each  had  risen  and  clattered 
through,  I  did  the  same,  and  there  was  no  nook  in  which 
I  could  ensconce  myself  but  the  kitchen.  Here  had 
gathered  the  whole  fraternity,  besides  many  of  the  sis- 
terhood from  without,  some  sitting  on  stools,  some  on 
chairs,  others  standing  in  waiting  posture,  some  squat- 
ting near  me,  and  looking  me  sharply  in  the  face.  The 
question,  impious  as  it  was,  did  certainly  arise,  whether 
these  creatures  had  immortal  souls,  and  could  be  made 
society  for  angels  .''  Yes,  through  the  blood  of  the 
Lamb  they  could,  but  if  nothing  unclean  can  enter  hea- 
ven, they  must  not  yet  be  quite  ready. 

They  were  waiting  for  breakfast,  and  as  all  could  not 
afford  "bread  and  tay,"  the  great  pot  of  potatoes  was 
in  constant  requisition,  one  "  squad"  waiting  on  their 
haunches  for  the  first  to  be  served.  One  of  a  little 
more  energy  than  the  rest  was  hurrying  the  boiling  by 
thrusting  in  his  cane,  with  which  he  had  walked 
through  the  mud,  and  from  the  bottom  turning  up  a 
prize,  squeezing  it,  and  if  not  fit  for  mastication  put- 
ting it  back.  No  sooner  was  one  batch  done,  than  an- 
other supplied  its  place  over  the  fire  until  the  whole 
were  served. 

Curly-headed  Biddy  had  lodged  in  a  corner  among 
the  forest  of  legs,  where  she  sat  busily  fixing  her 
hair,  when  the  mother  bade  her  instantly  go  away, 
and  say  her  prayers.  Biddy  heeded  it  not  ;  "  go  away 
and  say  your  prayers,  I  tell  you,  and  say  them  in  pri- 
vate, too."  Biddy  would  not  leave  the  warm  spot  till 
pulled  out,  and  in  a  few  woments  she  was  in  the  gang- 
way where  I  lodged,  in   the  middle  of  the  floor  upon 


GHAP.  XIX.]  CO.  OF  KERRY.  333 

her  knees,  her  fists  together,  and  mumbling  her  prayers 
as  devoutly  as  a  mad  child  could  do. 

It  was  now  eleven,  and  when  the  third  or  fourth  pot- 
full  was  poured  out,  the  woman  asked  me  if  I  would 
take  a  couple  of  potatoes.  1  told  her  they  had  been 
boiled  in  dirty  water,  and  besides  every  man  who  had 
a  cane  had  washed  it  in  the  pot,  so  I  must  be  excused. 
x\nd  here  followed  a  profound  lecture  on  the  filth 
of  the  country,  telling  her  that  if  the  people  had  no 
other  sins  attached  to  them  but  this,  it  would  be  suffi- 
cient to  keep  them  out  of  heaven.  "  To  be  sure  it  will  ; 
sloth  and  filth  are  two  deadly  sins.  God  save  the  poor 
Irish  !"  This  was  said  with  much  feeling,  and  cruel  as 
might  appear  so  severe  a  rebuke  on  so  humble  a  peni- 
tent, I  enforced  it  with  double  severity  by  adding  that 
the  county  of  Kerry  was  the  most  hopeless  of  all  places 
I  had  seen,  and  T  could  devise  no  better  way  of  cleans- 
ing them  than  by  hunting  them  out  with  dog  and  gun, 
and  burning  their  cabins  after  them.  She  bore  this 
with  apparent  resignation,  not  seeming  to  feel  herself  in 
the  least  implicated. 

But  the  fair.  This,  like  all  other  fairs,  was  managed 
by  buying  and  selling  to  the  best  advantage,  for  the 
Kerryites  are  characterized  by  their  tact  in  bargain- 
ing, as  well  as  in  all  other  movements.  The  men  were 
certainly  better  clad  than  any  I  had  seen  at  previous 
fairs,  and  what  met  my  warmest  approbation  was,  the 
corduroys  were  not  numerous  ;  substantial  blue  cloth 
pantaloons  adorned  the  legs  of  most  of  the  Kerryites. 
A  stripling  clerk  of  the  parish  priest's  entered,  and 
requested  to  examine  my  books,  as  their  care  over  the 
flock  required  that  they  should  be  particular  that  no- 
thing should  interfere  with  their  religion.  "  We  wish 
to  know  whether  your  Irish  testaments  are  a  true  trans- 
lation, by  a  bishop  of  our  own  church."  Showing 
him  one,  he  could  not  satisfy  his  mind  without  taking 
it  away  for  a  close  examination.  *'  We  have  had  some 
trouble  in  this  part  of  the  country,  by  men  professing 
to  be  teachers,  and  sowing  errors  among  the  people. 
And  are  you,  ma'am,  sent  out  by  any  religious  sect  .^" 


334  '  CO.  OF  KERRY.  [chap.  xix. 

Answering  him  that  I  was  sent  by  none  but  by  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  and,  as  far  as  I  was  capable,  his  doctrine 
and  his  alone  was  what  I  inculcated,  and  what  I  should 
inculcate,  and  these  doctrines  I  found  contained  in  that 
book  he  held  in  his  hand — he  walked  away  with  the 
Testament  to  decide  on  its  merits,  promising  to  see  me 
again,  but  never  did. 

"  A  fight !  a  fight  !'*  was  now  the  cry. 
"  Up  flew  the  windows  all."  * 

Sticks  were  flourishing  in  the  air,  and  to  appearance 
they  were  fighting  each  other  instead  of  the  persons. 
One  old  woman  rushed  into  the  crowd  to  rescue  her 
Paddy,  and  she  was  dragged  along  regardless  of  age  or 
sex,  her  cloak  was  torn  from  her,  her  cap  set  awry  (bon- 
net she  had  none),  and  while  one  pulled  one  way,  ano- 
ther seized  the  other  side,  till  the  sight  from  the  ludi- 
crous became  painful,  lest  she  should  be  "  pulled  in 
pieces."  The  priest  was  called,  but  they  heeded  not 
the  threats  and  denunciations  from  the  altar,  which  he 
assured  them  th^  should  have  on  the  morrow.  Sacri- 
fices were  more  to  them  than  altars  or  peace-offerings, 
and  he  was  obliged  to  leave  them  as  he  found  them,  to 
rattle  their  sticks,  as  they  did  till  midnight,  though  it 
was  next  day  reported  that  no  dead  or  wounded  were 
carried  from  the  field  that  night. 

In  the  evening  a  tidy  well-dressed  young  woman 
came  in,  whose  dialect  and  manner  were  so  much  like 
the  Americans,  that  I  asked  if  she  had  not  been  there. 
She  answered  that  she  had  resided  in  New  York  ten 
years,  and  returned  to  take  charge  of  a  sickly  mother. 
I  had  noticed  throughout  all  Ireland  when  a  servant 
girl  returns  from  America  that  a  great  change  is  evi- 
dent in  dress,  manner,  and  language.  She  ceases  to 
become  a  beast  of  burden,  and  the  basket  on  her  back, 
which  she  then  throws  off,  she  will  never  lift  again. 
She   confines  her    services  more  to    the   inside    of  the 

*  They  certainly  had  windows  in  Cahirciveen,  and  whole  panes 
of  glass,  which  only  needed  a  little  cleaning  to  give  comfortable 
light  within. 


CHAP.  XIX.]  CO.  OF  KERRY.  335 

cabin,  and  this    undergoes  a  manifest   change  for  the 
better. 

Sabbath. — The  rain  was  copious,  but  I  made  my  way 
to  a  Protestant  church,  and  heard  a  good  sermon 
on  the  resurrection.  The  speaker  had  but  a  few  to  lis- 
ten to  his  graphic  description  of  the  rolling  away  of  the 
stone  from  the  door  of  the  sepulchre,  yet  some  of  the 
bonnetless  women  who  were  seated  in  the  corner 
of  the  church  reminded  me  of  the  lingering  Maries, 
who  watched  at  the  cross,  and  followed  the  sacred 
body  of  their  Saviour,  and  beheld  where  they  laid  him. 
When  the  services  closed,  I  inquired  of  a  gentleman  if 
he  could  direct  me  to  a  comfortable  lodging-house.  He 
was  the  parochial  school-teacher,  and  quite  a  favorite  in 
the  parish,  and  he  sent  me  with  a  girl  whose  parents 
were  Protestants  and  sold  whiskey  ;  a  house  not  a  whit 
before  the  one  I  had  left,  either  in  cleanliness  or  moral- 
ity. It  is  a  stubborn  fact,  that  where  this  traffic  in  ar- 
dent spirits  is  carried  on,  there  is  confusion  and  every 
evil  work. 

I  took  some  potatoes  and  bread  with  them,  while 
they  dined  on  roast  veal,  pork,  and  cabbage,  the  good 
woman  saying  it  was  Easter  Sunday,  and  the  family 
expected  something  new.  It  was  evident  here  that 
the  reading  of  the  Scriptures  was  not  so  much  needed, 
as  the  right  practising  of  their  principles.  When  the 
teacher  called  to  invite  me  with  him  to  tea,  I  waited 
not  for  a  second  invitation,  and  when  I  had  reached 
his  house,  my  lady  sent  word  that  she  could  not  lodge 
me,  though  she  had  promised  to  do  so.  The  school- 
master, who  seemed  to  hold  the  keys  of  the  Protestant 
part  of  the  parish,  kept  me  quiet  till  half-past  ten,  by 
assuring  me  he  could  fix  me  in  comfortable  lodgings 
at  almost  any  hour.  W"e  went  to  the  house  of  a  Me- 
thodist, but  they  were  in  bed  ;  went  away,  and  demur- 
red awhile.  ''  We  must  return,''  said  my  persevering 
gallant,  "  and  knock  them  up."  It  was  done,  and  the 
servant  gave  me  a  tidy  bed  in  a  tidy  room,  and  long 
life  to  the  good  people  of  the  house,  whose  kind  salute 
in    the  morning  emphatically  impressed    me  with    the 


336  CO.  OF  KERRY.  [chap.  xx. 

force  of  the  sweet  passage,  "  I  was  a  stranger  and  ye 
took  me  in."  I  was  urged  to  take  breakfast,  and  no 
charges  but  that  of  being  "  faithful  unto  death." 


CHAPTER  XX. 

An  Americanized  Irishman — Armed  Defence — Modern  Mermaids — Island  of  V"a- 
lentia— Employment  and  a  good  Landlord — Conversible  Coast  Guard — A 
Child's  Mute  Appeal — Poverty  and  Low  Rents — Ridiculous  Old  Custom — 
Derrynaue— O'Cunnell's  Library— Cold  Comfort— Hospitable  Port  in  a  Storm 
— Lighthearted  Burdenbearers — Kerry  Dancing  and  Kerry  Kindness. 

Monday. — My  walk  this  morning  was  intended  to  be 
to  the  island  of  Valentia,  and  fortunately  a  man  called 
who  was  going  to  the  place  ;  he  had  been  in  America, 
and,  as  he  said,  "  come  back  because  he  was  a  fool," 
and  was  now  so  poor  he  could  not  return.  He  had 
lived  in  Vermont,  and  found  them  "  so  hospitable,  so 
nate,  and  so  well-fed,  that  he  could  never  be  content 
in  Ireland  again,  feedin'  on  the  potatoe  ;"  neither  could 
he  again  ever  endure  the  "  boorish  manners  of  the 
blackguard  Irish  among  the  black  mountains.  Don't 
they  kill  you,  followin^jfou  about,  and  starin'  at  you  ?" 
As  he  spoke,  out  poured  from  a  smoky  cabin  seven 
ill-looking  lads  and  lasses,  with  most  of  them  an  arm 
over  the  ey^s,  the  better  to  take  observation.  But  the 
poor  things  had  but  just  prepared  to  take  a  sure  aim, 
when  my  care-taking  guide  pounced  upon  them  with 
his  uplifted  stick,  threatening  unsparing  vengeance  if 
every  "  dirty  scrawl"  didn't  that  instant  go  into  the 
house.  They  fled  like  frighted  sheep  over  a  wall,  and 
never  looked  back  upon  us  till  secured  in  the  door  of 
the  cabin,  where,  joined  by  the  mother,  they  could 
take  a  survey  in  spite  of  threats  and  sticks.  ''  And 
you're  the  mother  that  rair'd  the  blackguards,  and 
your  smoky  cap  tells  that  you're  fitted  to  the  work." 
A  couple  of  girls  had  kept  behind  us  for  some  distance, 


CO.  OF  KERRY.  337 


eitlier  from  modesty  or  fear  of  my  guide,  who  flourished 
his  stick  at  all  who  passed,  if  he  or  she  had  the  audacity 
to  venture  the  most  side-way  glance  at  my  ladyship. 
Hearing  their  footsteps,  he  suddenly  turned,  and, 
''  Where  are  ye  goin'  ?  Go  a-hcad,  and  not  have  the 
boldness  to  be  paradin'  along  behind  the  lady,  and 
many's  the  long  day  that  ye'll  ever  see  her  like  again." 
The  poor  girls  had  committed  no  misdemeanor,  and 
passed  on  abashed,  not  knowing  what  the  choice  thing 
could  be  that  had  dropped  among  them,  requiring  such 
watchful  protection. 

In  vain  I  begged  him  to  spare  the  well-intentioned 
women  and  children,  and  let  them  gratify  a  curiosity 
natural  to  all.  It  isn't  me  they '11  humbug;  they'd  stare 
the  life  out  of  ye,  before  ye'd  reach  the  say."  As  we 
approached  the  shore,  my  guide  pointed  to  a  wretched 
cabin,  saying,  "There  lives  a  proud  mother,  who  rair'd 
a  gal  of  her  own  sort,  who  was  employed  gathering  the 
sea-weed  from  the  rocks  all  her  days.  She  went  to  New 
York,  and  I  called  upon  her  there,  and  because  my 
broadcloth  wasn't  so  fine  as  the  gentlemen  about  her, 
ehe  refused  to  see  me,  and  went  into  a  chamber  to  shun 
me.  Ah,  and  wasn't  she  sure  I  should  tell  of  her  kin 
that  belonged  to  her,  and  the  smoky  hut  where  she 
gathered  up  her  heels  !" 

The  employment  of  females  here,  though  I  had 
seen  a  little  of  it  before,  was  of  that  degrading  kind, 
that  I  felt  like  revolting  from  the  sight.  Men  and 
women  go  out  in  boats,  to  gather  sea-weed  that  ad- 
heres to  the  rocks,  which  is  used  for  manure.  They 
take  a  long  pole  with  hooks  upon  the  ^nd,  wade  in, 
standing  often  to  the  armpits  in  water,  and  scrape  the 
weed  from  the  rocks,  put  it  in  the  boats,  and  the  men 
take  it  to  shore ;  the  women  remaining  in  the  sea 
often  through  the  day.  At  night  they  take  a  basket- 
full  upon  their  backs,  and  bend  to  their  wretched 
cabins,  to  boil  their  potatoes,  and  lie  down  upon  the 
straw ;  and  in  the  morning  awake  to  the  same  hopes, 
and  go  to  the  same  employment.  Woman  is  here 
15 


338  CO.  OF  KERRY.  [chap.  xx. 

worse  than  a  beast  of  burden,  because  she  is  often  made 
to  do  what  the  beast  never  does.* 

We  crossed  in  a  ferry-boat  to  the  rock-bound  island 
of  Valentia,  where  the  white  billow  was  dashing  in 
playful  wantonness  against  every  bold  rock,  which 
like  well-built  battlements,  guarded  the  coast.  By  the 
skill  of  my  guide  a  lodging-place  was  provided,  though 
at  first  refused.  The  woman  was  followed  into  the 
kitchen,  where  my  qualifications  were  so  portrayed, 
that  they  won  at  last  upon  the  young  bride,  who  con- 
sented. This  neat  little  spot  looked  like  a  haven  of 
rest,  compared  with  the  town  I  had  left.  The  cottages 
were  tasteful,  the  yards  cleanly,  and  the  little  village 
was  quite,  a  manufacturing  one.  A  slate  quarry,  of 
great  extent  upon  the  coast  and  upon  the  mountain,  was 
in  excavation  ;  two  hundred  men,  and  sometimes  more, 
here  found  employment  for  a  shilling  a  day,  and  this  has 
been  in  operation  for  nearly  thirty  years.  An  English 
nobleman,  much  beloved  by  the  islanders,  owns  the 
quarry,  stays  continually  upon  the  island,  and  spends 
his  money  there  ;  his  wife  likewise  is  a  pattern  of  good^ 
ness.  His  house  stands  upon  the  sea  coast,  with  no  wall 
but  the  surges  of  the  ocean,  which  gives  a  happy  relief 
to  .eye  and  mind  while  passing  along  this  precipitous 
shore. 

The  light-house  is  an  object  of  great  interest,  being 
built  upon  a  rock,  which  was  once  CromwelFs  fort  ; 
one  of  his  cannons  now  stands  upon  the  wall,  fixed 
there  as  a  memento  of  his  heroic  deeds.  The  family 
keeping  the  house  are  from  Dublin,  and  quite  accom- 
plished.    1  went  out  and  seated  myself  upon  a  rock, 

'  "  Eight  months  in  the  year  we  drag  at  this,  praise  God,"  said  a 
poor  woman.  I  looked  back  to  the  garden  of  Eden,  and  was  it 
jrr  this  that  a  help-mate  was  made  for  man  1  Is  this  the  being 
that  is  destined  to  mould  the  minds  of  his  children,  to  look  well  to 
the  ways  of  his  household,  and  make  him  "  known  as  he  sitieth  at 
the  gate  among  the  elders  V  Surely  Ireland's  Bible  teachers  must 
have  added  their  own  theology  to  that  of  Henry,  Clarke,  and 
Scott,  to  have  produced  such  a  version  as  this  for  the  station  of 
woman. 


CHAP.  II.]  CO.  OF  KERRY. 


overlooking  the  sea,  watching  the  poor  women  gathering 
the  sea-weed  and  the  dashing  of  the  surges  at  my  feet, 
till  a  sprinkling  of  rain,  and  the  lateness  of  night, 
warned  me  of  my  distance  from  home.  I  thought  of  the 
poor  exile  of  Erin,  and  wondered  not  that 

"  In  dreams  he  revisits  the  sea-beaten  shore," 

of  his  own  beautiful  isle,  where  the  finger  of  the  x'\.l- 
mighty  has  pencilled  so  many  sublimities  as  well  as 
beauties.  When  I  reached  my  lodgings  I  was  as  com- 
pletely drenched  as  the  poor  women  with  their  sea-weed, 
and  had  quite  spoiled  a  valuable  coat  and  velvet  bon- 
net. 

The  house  was  tolerable,  but  the  charge  was  so  high 
that  I  went  away  quite  dissatisfied,  and  gave  them  a 
cold  parting  ;  disgusted  that  any  of  the  Irish  should 
take  advantage  of  Americans,  who  have  so  many  of 
the  destitute  of  that  nation  upon  their  shores.  Going 
out  to  look  at  the  slate-cutting  machinery,  the  whole 
island  seemed  to  be  on  the  spot.  One  bawled  out, 
"  Here  is  a  man  who  has  been  a  long  time  in  your 
country."  The  man  responded,  "  How  do  you  like 
Ireland  ?  I  hope  they  trate  ye  well.  They  ought, 
Americans  are  so  kind  to  the  Irish  there.  They  are 
the  kindest  craturs  in  the  world,  ma'am,  in  Vermont." 
I  found  in  myself  that  love  of  country  and  pride  of 
heart,  which  1  had  endeavored  to  suppress,  when  he 
said  that  he  had  been  in  the  town  of  my  birth,  and  was 
treated  with  the  greatest  hospitality.  The  machinery 
for  sawing,  cutting,  and  polishing  slate,  is  quite  a  cu- 
riosity, mostly  performed  by  steam  ;  and  is  a  work  of 
great  utility,  much  to  the  credit  of  the  proprietor.  The 
island  itself  is  on  the  whole  a  well  regulated  and 
cleanly  place.  The  little  church  on  the  hill  tells  the 
traveller,  that,  though  the  worshippers  are  few,  yet 
the  assembling  of  those  few  together  is  not  forgotten. 
The  Catholics  have  a  chapel  on  the  other  side  of  the 
Island. 

My  American  friend  was  all  attention,  conducted 
me  to  the  boat,  and  left  me  in  the  protection  of  a  Ker- 


340  CO.  OF  KERRY.  [chap.xx. 

ryite,  who  was  to  accompany  me  on  my  way  to  Water- 
ville.  I  took  out  a  portion  of  the  Douay  Testament, 
which  he  read  aloud  as  he  walked,  making  comments 
which  would  have  done  credit  to  any  who  had  been 
taught  the  Scriptures,  like  Timothy,  from  a  child. 
The  Word  of  God  to  the  peasantry  of  Ireland  is  a  treat 
which  they  greatly  enjoy,  especially  among  the  moun- 
tains. As  I  parted  with  my  companion,  he  kindly  of- 
fered to  send  me  his  boy  and  donkey  to  carry  me  a  few 
miles,  if  I  would  call  at  his  cabin.  I  declined,  for  the 
purpose  of  seeing  both  the  country  and  the  people,  and 
giving  him  the  Scriptures  he  held  in  his  hand,  1  said 
adieu,  not  without  hoping  that  the  ten  mile»'  walk  we 
had  performed  together,  would  be  blessed  by  the  Sa- 
viour to  the  good  of  this  unsophisticated  peasant. 
What  an  honor  to  ba  counted  worthy  to  meet  these  poor 
of  this  world  on  their  own  level,  and  tell  in  their  listen- 
ing ears  the  story  of  Calvaj*y.  How  many  opportuni- 
ties of  doing  good  when  walking  by  the  way,  as  well  as 
when  sitting  in  the  house  ! 

I  now  reached,  as  the  sun  was  setting,  the  neat 
little  well-known  cottage  by  the  sea-side,  called  the 
"  Sportsman's  Hotel."  I  called  for  lodgings  ;  at  first 
was  refused,  because  they  were  building  an  addition 
to  the  house,  and  had  no  place  to  put  a"  dacent  body  ;" 
but  telling  them  that  I  was  an  American,  and  easily 
packed  away,  I  was  immediately  made  welcome  and 
comfortable.  In  the  morning,  offering  to  pay  my 
bill,  the  woman  declined  any  compensation,  and  sent 
me  on  to  the  "  kind-hearted  O'ConnelPs,"  where  she 
had  seven  years  resided,  and  whose  family  she  knew 
would  treat  me  with  the  utmost  civility,  adding,  "  I 
was  told  never  to  let  a  stranger  pass  the  threshold 
without  placing  food  before  him."  Leaving  the  little 
town,  the  crowd  was  so  great,  that  I  enquired  where 
could  so  many  lodge  as  met  me  at  the  doors.  One 
gentleman  in  good  costume  came  out,  invited  me  in, 
whispered  to  his  wife,  and  she  put  down  a  couple  of 
eggs,  and  I  was  urged  to  breakfast.  Telling  them  I 
had  just  breakfasted,  "  Can  I  do  anything  for  you  ? 


CHAP.  XX.]  CO.  OF  KERRY.  341 

You  shall  be  welcome  to  anything  we  have,  if  you  will 
eat  or  drink." 

*'  I  do  not  dispute  an  Irishman's  sincerity  when  he 
offers  kindness,  especially  if  he  is  not  an  '  upstart '  in  life." 
"  I  am  not  Irish,  but  English;  have  been  in  America 
when  a  boy,  and  well  remember  their  kindness." 

In  fact  the  kindness  of  my  country  appeared  in  quite  a 
flattering  aspect ;  and  though  as  an  individual,  while 
there,  I  had  not  experienced  an  overcoming  weight  of  the 
commodity,  I  was  now  in  the  way  of  getting  it  through 
another  fortunate  channel. 

Saying  good  morning  to  police  men,  laboring  men, 
women,  and  children,  and  passing  on,  a  resolute  man 
interrupted  me  by"  Let  me  inquire  are  you  a  foreigner.^ 
I  am  likewise  a  stranger  here,  a  coast-guard ;  and 
did  you  ever  see  or  hear  anything  like  Kerry  ?  The 
people  jabbering  like  black-birds,  and  these  wild  rocks 
and  mountains,  the  most  frightful,  ma'am.  Pm  from 
the  north  ;  and  where  are  you  going  .'"  "  To  O'Con- 
nelPs,  sir."  "  And  there  you'll  find  the  hospitality; 
but  be  sure  you  take  the  new  road,  it's  the  smoothest 
under  foot.  And  I  wish  I  was  going  too  ;  but  I'm  sta- 
tioned here,  and  so  I  can't  go  with  you  ;  stationed  here 
to  guard  the  coast  against  smugglers,  do  ye  under- 
stand.'" There  was  something  peculiar  in  this  man's 
appearance  ;  he  seemd  to  have  caught  the  wildness  of 
the  scenery  around  him,  or  his  occupation  had  given 
him  that  watchful  restlessness  that  made  me  feel  uneasy 
in  his  presence,  and  I  was  relieved  when  he  said,  "  I 
must  not  walk  any  further  with  you,  ma'am." 

I  was  just  settling  into  a  quiescent  state,  when  from 
behind  me  one  called  out,  running  at  full  speed,  "  Par- 
don me,  lady,  you  are  from  New  York  ;  you  never  heard 
of  a  dress-maker  by  the  name  of  Roan,  a  daughter  of 
mine,  who  has  not  written  me  in  nearly  two  years,  and 
isn't  it  in  Greenwich  street  she  stops?" 

"  I  do  not,  sir,  recollect  having  the  honor  of  her  ac- 
quaintance." "  Pm  quite  sorry,  ma'am,  that  business 
takes  me  out  of  town  ;  I  would  take  my  carriage,  and 
carry  you  to  Derrynane      That's  the  place  !     And  ye'U 


342  CO.  OF  KERRY.  [chap.  xx. 

not  return  to-day,  nor  to-morrow.     Keep  the  new  road, 
ma'am,  and  the  Almighty  God  go  with  you." 

Again  was  I  left  to  myself,  and  the  strange  view 
around  me;  not  knowing  how  to  ^choose,  which  most 
to  admire,  or  which  to  enjoy,  so  divided  was  my 
mind  between  mountain  wildness,  roaring  dashing 
waves,  green  sea  and  rocky  island,  wild  mountaineers 
leaping  from  rock  to  rock,  or  climbing  up  the  wall 
made  for  the  protection  of  the  passenger  upon  the  pre- 
cipitous steep,  and  the  amazed  children  who  followed 
me  in  companies.  Hearing  the  quick  patting  of  feet 
behind  me,  I  turned,  and  a  little  girl  of  about  six 
years  looked  me  in  the  face,  saluting  me  in  Irish,  and 
anxious  to  be  understood.  Six  others  were  in  pursuit, 
leading  each  other,  and  jabbering  in  rotation.  1  sa- 
luted them,  and  the  youngest  screeched  in  fright, 
turning  and  giving  side-glances.  A  little  coaxing  at 
length  consoled  her,  and  though  she  appeared  to  feel 
safe  in  my  sight,  yet  had  I  dropped  from  the  clouds  in 
their  midst,  they  could  not  have  been  more  at  a  loss  to 
know  what  the  being  could  be.  At  length,  all  but  the 
first  who  saluted  me,  turned  up  a  stony  ascent,  and 
were  soon  out  of  sight  in  the  mountain  passes — as 
pretty  a  group  of  faces  as  town  or  city  ever  could  pro- 
duce. The  little  companion  who  staid  behind,  kept 
close  to  ray  side,  looking  me  smilingly  in  the  face.  I 
gave  her  a  penny  ;  but  this  was  not  the  thing  desired, 
for  she  indifferently  took  it,  looked  at  me,  then  up  the 
mountain,  settling  her  countenance  into  a  look  of  dis- 
appointment. Then  starting  as  from  a  reverie,  as  if 
some  happy  thought  had  directed  her  what  next  ex- 
pedient to  try  ;  but  seeing  me  at  a  loss  to  get  her 
meanings  in  apparent  despair  she  turned  through  a 
niche  in  the  wall,  down  a  steep  descent,  to  a  cabin  near 
the  sea.  I  have  ever  regretted  that  I  did  not  follow 
this  sweet  child,  for  she  was  clean,  and  her  tiny  white 
feet  would  have  adorned  the  drawing-room  of  any  lord 
in  Kerry.  I  might  have  ascertained  whether  it  was 
the  instinct  of  hospitality,  so  strongly  implanted  in  the 
Irish  heart,  or    whether  some  case  of   suffering  which 


CHAP.  XX.]  CO.  OF  KERRY.  343 

she  wished  me  to  reliove,  was  the  cause  of  her  great 
earnestness.  1  looked  after  her,  as  her  stealthy  foot 
made  its  way  cautiously  down  the  rocks;  and  as  I  saw 
the  last  waving  of  her  dark  hair  upon  the  breeze,  I 
asked,  why  has  a  wise  God  left  so  much  of  his  finished 
handy  work  to  dwell  in  dens  and  caves  of  the  earth, 
where  hares  and  rabbits,  owls  and  magpies,  are  the 
only  companions  to  reciprocate  their  worth  ? 

Seeing  a  hole  in  the  wall,  and  a  hut  upon  the  other 
side,  I  crept  through,  and  found  a  widow  sitting  in  a 
corner,  with  a  pig  on  the  skirt  of  her  dress,  asleep,  and 
three  little  children  beside.  Seeing  no  bed,  table,  or 
cupboard,  but  a  nitche  in  the  wall,  in  which  were  a 
couple  of  plates,  I  asked  her  where  she  slept.  "  Here, 
ma'am,"  pointing  to  a  pile  of  straw  by  her  side.  She 
said  she  had  a  bed,  but  no  place  to  put  it.  "  I  wish  I 
had  something  to  give  you  to  eat,  but  I  have  not  a  bit 
of  bread,  nor  a  potatoe."  "  I  wish  I  had  something  to 
give  j/oM,"  I  answered,  "for  I  see  no  way  how  you  can 
live." 

This  was  a  fair  specimen  of  all  the  mountaineers 
around  the  residence  of  O'Connell.  But  when  t  in- 
quired the  price  of  ground,  and  found  they  were  giving 
but  a  shilling  an  acre,  for  the  same  kind  of  mountain 
land  I  had  seen  elsewhere  rented  for  twenty  and 
twenty-four  shillings,  and  no  ejectments  allowed,  I 
wondered  not  so  much  that  they  were  loud  in  their 
praises  of  him,  and  that  I  heard  the  voice  of  singing 
and  of  laughter  from  cabin  and  rock,  from  potatoe- 
ridge  and  bog,  wherever  a  man  was  using  his  spade 
or  hunting  the  hare.  From  the  top  of  the  mountain 
here  may  be  seen  the  celebrated  light-house,  on  what 
is  called  the  Skellig-rock  ;  a  dangerous  place  to  ap- 
proach, and  where  the  adventurer  must  sometimes 
pass  a  week  before  he  finds  it  safe  to  leave.  This  is 
the  place  to  which  the  people  of  Kerry  and  Cork,  on 
shrove-tide  eve,  amuse  themselves  by  hunting  out  the 
old  maids  and  widows,  putting  them  into  carts,  on 
asses,  and  all  kind  of  ludicrous  vehicles,  to  send  them 
to  Skelliof-rocks.     The  streets  of  Cork  were  alive  with 


344  CO.  OF  KERRY.  [chap.  xx. 

this  class  of  people,  pursuing  such  as  they  deemed 
worthy  a  residence  there,  and  often  is  the  joke  carried 
so  far,  that  some  are  conveyed  miles  out  of  town,  and 
set  down,  and  left  to  make  their  way  back  as  they 
can. 

When  I  reached  the  summit  of  the  mountain,  and 
the  sea  with  its  wild  shore,  islands,  and  dashing  waves 
broke  upon  my  view,  I  knew  the  abode  of  the  won- 
derful man  O'Connell  was  near,  and  I  paused  to  take 
a  full  view  of  the  wildness  around.  Here  then  did 
the  keen,  deep-meaning,  and  nondescript  eye  of  this 
never-tiring  agitator  seek  out  an  abode  ;  here  were  the 
principles,  the  agitations,  of  the  ever-stirring  mind  nur- 
tured and  fed ;  and  as  here,  wave  after  wave  dashes 
against  the  rock,  so  has  agitation  after  agitation  dashed 
with  impetuosity  against  the  Gibraltar  of  England,  as 
yet  impregnable.  But  hush  !  a  woman  must  walk 
softly  on  political  pavements.  A  circuitous  well-made 
road  winds  down  the  mountain,  and  you  see  not  the 
indescribable  mansion  that  is  embosomed  in  rock  and 
tree,  till  within  a  few  paces  of  the  spot.  Here  no 
walls  or  surly  porter,  demanding  a  pass,  hedge  up  the 
entrance  ;  but  a  path  like  that  to  a  New-England  farm- 
house, leads  you  on,  and  you  may  take  ^"our  choice  of 
entrance  into  the  heterogeneous  abode,  by  kitchen, 
chapel,  or  hall ;  choosing  the  latter,  I  rang  the  bell. 
An  old  man  answered,  saying,  "  I  am  only  a  stranger, 
and  will  inquire  if  you  can  have  admittance."  A 
waiter  came  next,  and  ushered  me  into  the  parlor,  say- 
ing all  were  from  home,  but  Maurice  O'Connell  and  the 
house-keeper.  The  countenance  of  the  latter  was  to 
me  better  fitted  to  drive  away  the  enemy  than  to  in- 
vite the  friend  ;  and  the  sequel  proved  more  than  I 
dreaded,  when  I  met  her  cold  penurious  look  and 
manner.  She  showed  me  into  the  library,  which  pre- 
sented a  tolerable  assortment  of  Encyclopaedias,  lives 
of  saints,  VVaverly  Novels,  law  books,  &c.  The  draw- 
ing-room contained  all  that  is  needed  for  ornament  or 
use.  The  portrait  of  O'Connell,  engraved  to  the  life, 
taken  while   in  the  penitentiary,  and  one  taken  some 


CHAP.  XX.]  CO.  OF  KERRY.  345 

years  before,  are  not  the  least  objects  of  interest  in  the 
room.  The  portraits  of  his  wife,  daughters,  grand- 
daughters, and  sons,  form  the  most  important  orna- 
ments in  the  house.  Among  the  family  group,  are  a 
brother  and  sister,  the  sister  in  the  act  of  swinging, 
sitting  in  a  rope  ;  the  little  brother  with  a  roguish 
smile,  holding  the  rope,  and  a  little  dog  looking  on, 
enjoying  the  sport.  It  is  the  happiest  touch  of  nature, 
in  portrait  painting,  I  ever  saw.  A  chapel,  not  finished, 
is  attached  to  one  end  of  the  house.  A  tablet  giving 
its  history  and  the  name  of  the  founder,  is  being  in 
readiness,  as  a  fixture  for  future  ages.  A  well-fed 
priest  was  walking  about,  ready  at  any  notice  to  p^- 
form  any  religious  duty,  within  the  pale  of  his  con- 
science, for  the  good  of  the  family. 

The  walks,  the  beach,  and  the  foaming  sea,  the 
tower  upon  an  eminence — the  all-manner  of  shaped 
angles  and  triangles,  added  and  superadded  to  the  main 
body  of  the  house — the  place  where  it  stands,  and  the 
person  who  designed  it — all  taken  into  consideration, 
make  it  a  house  and  spot  quite  diflferent  from  all  others. 
I  lingered,  and  looked,  and  left  it  as  1  found  it,  and  can 
no  more  describe  it  than  before  I  saw  it. 

A  lunch  was  before  me  at  my  return  into  the  house  ; 
the  long  table  was  in  the  dining-room,  around  which 
are  seated,  when  O'Connell  is  at  home,  a  goodly  num- 
ber of  his  children  ;  and  sometimes  thirty-six  grand- 
children have  been  seated  together  there,  with  priest  and 
guests,  partaking  the  bounties  of  this  hospitable 
board. 

While  enjoying  my  bread  and  cheese,  the  threaten- 
ing clouds  began  to  drop  rain  :  it  was  now  twenty 
minutes  past  four.  I  had  a  wild  mountainous  walk  of 
five  miles  before  me,  and  the  wind  was  howling  tre- 
mendously among  the  bleak  mountains.  I  said  to  the 
housekeeper,  "  I  dread  the  walk,  my  feet  are  blistered, 
and  should  the  storm  increase  upon  the  mountain,  as 
there  is  no  place  to  lodge,  what  shall  I  do.'"  "It 
will  be  bad  for  you,"  was  the  reply  of  this  fixture  in 
female  form,  as  she  showed  me  out  of  the  house.  I 
15* 


346  CO.  OF  KERRY.  [chap.  xx. 

said,  "  wShould  you  ever  visit  New  York,  I  will  do  as 
much  for  you,  if  you  will  call  on  me."  My  fate  was 
now  fixed  ;  I  was  out  and  the  door  was  shut,  and  never 
did  the  bolting  of  the  prison  gate  of  a  condemned  cul- 
prit, grate  more  harshly  upon  the  ear,  as  the  turnkey 
"  shut  him  in,"  than  did  the  closing  of  this  door  of  the 
"  x\o;itator,"  when  its  last  echo  died  on  my  ear.  It  was 
then  the  "  Repeal"  of  this  union  of  wind  and  rain  was 
the  pitiful  cry  of  my  heart.  The  rain  and  wind  were 
in  my  face,  and  the  wild  mountain  before  me.  When 
I  could  face  the  storm  no  longer,  I  turned  my  back, 
and  endeavored  to  walk  in  that  way.  A  poor  woman 
and  her  basket  were  sheltered  under  the  wall,  and  she 
cried  out,  "  And  why,  ma'am,  are  ye  out  in  this 
stawrm  r  and  sure  why  didn't  ye  lodge  at  Derrynane .'" 
"  Because  they  did  not  ask  me,"  I  replied.  "  And  sure 
they  wouldn't  turn  a  stranger  out  on  the  wild  mountains 
in  such  a  stawrm  as  this  .'"  "  And  sure  the}^  did,"  was 
all  I  could  say. 

I  went  on  as  I  could,  till  the  mountain  was  ascended ; 
then  the  wind  was  at  my  back,  and  I  soon  had  trouble 
to  keep  upon  my  feet ;  and  for  some  perches  there  was 
actual  danger  of  being  dashed  against  the  rock  on  one 
side,  or  thrown  over  the  wall  into  the  sea,  upon  the 
other.  Two  men  upon  a  horse  were  blown  aside  from 
the  path,  and  I  in  the  same  direction.  One  hat  fell 
from  a  rider's  head,  and  was  blown  a  good  distance, 
when  my  parasol  held  it  fast,  till  a  footman  could  carry 
it  to  the  owner  ;  and  we  were  all  going  zig-zag  as  best 
we  could,  till  the  repeated  gusts  had  spent  their  fury. 
I  was  once  forced  against  a  rock,  and  saved  myself 
from  being  lost  by  clinging  to  a  shelving  part  of  it, 
till  the  gust  past  over.  It  was  a  sad  night — one 
which  cannot  soon  be  forgotten,  and  while  my  despair- 
ing grasp  held  me  to  the  slippery  crag,  my  soliloquy 
was,  "  And  is  it  from  the  house  of  Daniel  O'Connell 
that  a  female  stranger  has  been  driven  this  perilous 
night  f  Is  it  from  the  house  which,  above  all  others,  I 
had  been  told  in  my  own  country,  was  the  welcome  re- 
sort   and  tarrying  place  for    every  stranger    of    every 


CHAP.  XX.]  CO.  OF  KERRY.  347 

clime,  that  I  had  been  virtually  turned  out  to  perish, 
if  not  saved  by  little  else  than  a  miracle  ?"  True 
Daniel  O'Connell  was  not  at  home,  (happy  thought  !) 
but  where  was  the  "  generous  Maurice  ?"  He  was  sit- 
ting at  home  by  a  comfortable  dinner,  and  might  not 
have  been  told  that  a  stranger  had  been  there.  Though 
I  dealt  out  no  anathemas,  yet  I  did  say,  that  the  un- 
feeling instrument  of  my  suffering,  his  housekeeper, 
was  a  bad  representative  of  a  house  like  his — that  the 
hospitable  abode  of  such  a  man,  should  have  a  sentinel 
at  its  post  that  had  a  common  share  of  common  hospi- 
tality. Fool  that  I  was,  that  I  did  not  ask  her,  as  I 
thought,  to  let  me  pass  the  night  in  the  tower,  rather 
than  risk  my  life  on  this  blealk  mountain  !  Again  I 
ventured  on  amid  pelting  rain  and  furious  blasts,  till 
night  overtook  me,  and  a  company  of  mountain  pea- 
santry met  me.  "  And  where  have  ye  been,  this  bleak 
evening — not  to  Derrynane  r"  "  Yes,  to  Derrynane." 
"  But  I'm  sorry  I  didn't  know  it.  I  live  a  mile  from 
the  Abbey,  and  would  have  made  ye  quite  comfortable 
in  my  cabin ;  and  why  didn't  ye  stay  ?  I've  been 
lookin'  for  ye.  I  wanted  to  talk  of  New  York."  It 
was  not  New  York  that  was  in  my  thoughts.  I  cared 
not  a  whit  whether  they  were  burning  or  freezing  ;  it 
was  the  bleak  rugged  mountain — the  mad,  foaming  sea, 
the  whirlwind,  and  the  storm  that  I  was  combating ; 
and  above,  and  beyond  all,  it  was  the  "  It  will  be 
bad  for  you,"  of  the  penurious  voice  of  the  housekeeper 
at  the  door  of  O'Connell,  that  was  ringing  in  my  ears. 
At  ten  I  reached  the  hospitable  dwelling  of  Jerry 
Quirks.  "  Welcome,  welcome  to  my  house,  and  stay 
as  long  as  ye  will,  without  any  charges."  Never  was 
a  salute  more  timely ;  never  did  a  salute  sound  more 
sweetly. 

Next  morning  the  tempest  was  still  high,  and 
venturing  upon  the  strand,  I  there  saw,  as  at  Valentia, 
crowds  of  females  busied ;  and  speaking  to  one,  she  re- 
plied, "These  stawrmy  nights,  ma'am,  blow  good 
luck  to  the  poor  ;  they  wash  up  the  say-weed,  and  that's 
why  ye  see  so  many  now  at  work." 


348  CO.  OF  KERRY.  [chap.  xx. 

Tlie  company  increased,  till  I  counted  more  than 
sixty ;  and  busy,  merry  work  was  made  of  it ;  running 
with  heavy  loads  upon  their  heads,  dripping  with  wet, 
exultingly  throwing  them  down,  and  bounding  away  in 
glee.  Truly,  "  A  merry  heart  doeth  good  like  a  medi- 
cine." "And  are  you  not  cold.'"  *' O  no,  ma'am, 
the  salt  say  keeps  us  warm  ;  the  salt  say,  ma'am,  never 
lets  us  take  cold."  "And  how  many  days  must  you 
work  in  this  way,  before  you  get  a  supply  .^"  "  Aw, 
sometimes  not  fawrty,  but  scores  of  days."  "  And  all 
you  have  for  your  labor  is  the  potatoe  .""  "  That's  all, 
ma'am,  that's  all ;  and  it's  many  of  us  that  can't  get 
the  sup  of  milk  with  'em,  no,  nor  the  salt  ;  but  we  can't 
help  it,  we  must  be  content  with  what  the  good  God 
sends  us." 

She  hitched  her  basket  over  her  shoulder,  and  in 
company  with  one  older  than  herself,  skipped  upon  the 
sand  made  wet  with  rain,  and  turning  suddenly  about, 
gave  me  a  pretty  specimen  of  Kerry  dancing,  as  prac- 
ticed by  the  peasantry.  "  The  sand  is  too  wet,  ma'am, 
to  dance  right  well  on,"  and  again  shouldering  her 
basket,  with  a  "  God  speed  ye  on  ye'r  journey,"  leaped 
away. 

1  looked  after  them  among  the  rocks,  more  with  ad- 
miration for  the  moment  than  with  pity ;  for  what 
hearts,  amid  splendor  and  ease,  lighter  than  these  .^ 
And  what  heads  and  stomachs,  faring  sumptuously 
every  day,  freer  from  aches  than  theirs,  with  the  pota- 
toe and  sup  of  milk  .'  This  woman,  who  danced  before 
me,  was  more  than  fifty,  and  I  do  not  believe  that  the 
daughter  of  Herodias  herself,  was  more  graceful  in  her 
movements,  more  beautiful  in  complexion  or  symme- 
try, than  was  this  "  dark-haired"  matron  of  the  moun- 
tains of  Kerry. 

Wandering  among  the  cabins,  I  found  nothing  new, 
but  the  same  questions  of  "What  brought  ye  the  long 
way.^"  and  the  same  gush  of  kindness  from  a  poor 
cabin  woman,  who  followed  me  out  with  such  warm 
wishes,  that  it  was  affecting — "  What  can  I  give  the 
lone  stranger,  who  has  come  the  long  way  to  see  us  ? 


CHAP.  XXI.]  CO.  OF  KERRY.  34T> 

I've  not  a  hap'orth  ;  and  could  ye  eat  the  egg  ?  May- 
be ye  liav'n't  had  the  breakfast  ?  I  wished  I  had  a 
penny  to  give  ye."  Assuring  her  that  I  needed  no 
breakfast,  and  that  it  was  but  few  pennies  that  I  requir- 
ed, thanking  her  again  and  again,  from  my  inmost  soul, 
I  left  her  door,  and  heard  in  the  distance,  "Aw,  she's 
light  on  the  fut,  the  cratur." 

On  my  return  to  my  room,  I  found  a  work  called 
"  Rambles  in  the  South  of  Ireland,"  by  an  English 
lady,  prettily  and  candidly  written  ;  free  from  that 
sarcasm  on  Irish  character  and  Irish  manners  so  cal- 
culated to  throw  contempt  on  the  nation,  which  such 
works  are,  and  which  is  quite  too  prevalent  among 
writers  who  visit  the  country  to  write  a  book.  Some 
hap'hazard  expression,  made  to  give  the  sentence  a 
lively  turn  or  happy  ending,  may  fix  a  libel  on  a  peo- 
ple, which  will  be  read  and  believed  by  many  genera- 
tions. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 


Rough  Road — A  Kind  Ofler  declined— Lonely  and  Late — The  Funeral  Lament 
—Maurice  Raheley's  Lodging  House— Perfumed  Bedchamber-Sunrise  on  the 
Kerry  Mountains — Novel  Duet — Mountain  Air  or  City  Smoke? — Irish  Roads 
—A  Tetotaler  in  Bad  Company  Awful  Night— Sabbath  of  Rest  at  Killamey 
— Gap  of  Dunloe — Guide  Persecution — 'I'he  "  Crazy  "Woman" — Where  to 
spend  the  night— Bright  Wood  Fire- Recollections  of  Childhood— Dinis  Island 
—Debt  of  Gratitude. 

The  time  of  my  departm-e  drew  nigh,  though  the 
wind  had  not  abated,  nor  the  sea  become  quiescent ; 
yet  the  sun  found  a  narrow  loop-hole  to  look  down  a 
few  moments,  and  say,  "  Make  your  farewell  in  haste, 
if  you  would  have  my  company  through  the  lone  moun- 
tain before  you."  It  was  three  o'clock,  and  a  walk  of 
eleven  Irish  miles,  covered  with  broken  stones,  fresh 
from  the  hammer,  was  before  me.  Killoyra  was  my 
destination,  and  Maurice  Raheley's  house,  which  I  was 


350  CO.  OF  KERRY.  [chap.  xxi. 

assured  was  "  nate  and  tidy."  The  hospitable  inn- 
keeper would  take  no  pay  for  lodging  or  board.  Bless- 
ed inn  !  O,  if  the  world,  for  every  ten  miles,  were 
filled  with  the  like,  then  might  travellers  eat,  drink, 
smoke,  and  sleep,  without  this  melting  away  of  gold 
and  silver. 

A  little  mountain  girl,  from  a  rocky  foot-path  leading 
from  the  ascent,  accosted  me.  "  Andsure  ye  hav'n't  far 
to  walk  alone  ?"  Answering  her,  "To  the  foot  of  the 
mountain."  "  To  the  fut  of  the  mountain  !  and  the 
night  'ill  be  on  ye  ;  but  I'm  in  the  way  with  ye  a  good 
bit."  She  was  a  pleasant  companion  for  two  miles, 
when  a  comely  well  dressed  young  man,  on  a  good 
horse,  accosted  me,  wondering  at  seeing  me  on  foot. 
*'  The  wild  scenery  of  these  mountains,"  I  answered, 
"  was  one  great  inducement,  and  to  shorten  my  route, 
another."  "And  wT>uldn't  ye  get  up,  and  let  me  give 
ye  a  lift  of  a  couple  of  miles  .^"  I  looked  at  the  lively 
steed,  the  sprightliness  of  the  young  man,  and  had  [ 
been  in  my  teens,  might  have  been  strongly  prompted 
to  accept  the  offer.  But  as  my  appearance  to  the  com- 
plaisant gallant  was  nothing  favorable,  I  declined,  and 
he  walked  his  horse  to  keep  me  company,  giving  me  in- 
telligent answers  to  my  inquiries  of  the  state  of  the 
country,  presenting  the  same  dark  picture  of  its  hapless 
condition  as  others  had  done,  till  a  different  road  turn- 
ed him  away  ;  and  when  I  saw  the  grey  courser  gallop- 
ping  off,  and  heard  the  last  sound  of  his  hoofs  upon  the 
path,  I  paused — all  was  solitude. 

The  sun  had  sunk  behind  a  black  mountain,  twilight 
was  letting  down  her  soft  curtain  upon  the  heathy 
landscape,  and  not  the  buzz  of  an  insect  fell  upon  my 
ear.  Not  the  smoke  of  a  cabin  curled  in  the  air,  and 
neither  man  nor  beast  met  my  admiring  eye.  Nature 
seemed  here  to  say,  "  Walk  softly,  and  let  me  enjoy 
my  solitude  alone."  From  a  far  distant  mountain,  a 
mournful  sound  fell  on  my  ear.  It  was  the  wail  for 
the  dead.  It  swelled  in  heavy  tones,  and  then  died 
away,  as  they  who  chanted  it  descended  a  valley ;  thus 
alternately  rising  and  falling,  for  five   long  miles,  did 


CHAP.  XXI. J  CO.  OF  KERRY.  351 

this  lamentation  float  on  the  air.  The  solitude,  the 
lateness  of  the  hour,  my  distance  from  the  land  of  my 
fathers,  among  so  primitive  a  people,  whose  bible  cus- 
toms have  been  retained  since  the  mourning  for  Jacob 
in  the.  "  threshing  floor  of  Atad,"  made  this  lamenta- 
tion a  pleasant  mournful  accompaniment  over  the  bar- 
ren waste  I  was  walking.  The  rustics  afterwards  told 
me  it  was  a  lone  old  woman  who  had  died  in  her  cabin 
on  the  mountain,  and  she  must  be  brought  "  to  lie  with 
her  kin  in  the  valley." 

The  shadows  of  the  night  were  now  heavy  on  the  out- 
stretched bog  before  me  ;  a  woman  and  young  lad  came 
out  of  a  cabin,  and  the  youth  said,  "  This  is  a  lonely 
road  for  a  lady  to  walk,  and  where  can  ye  be  goin'.'" 
"  To  Maurice  Raheley's." — "  Maurice  Raheley's  !  and 
the  night  is  now  nearly  on  ye,  and  ye've  a  long  two 
miles  under  yer  fut  ;  we'll  be  on  the  way  a  half  mile 
on."  They  gave  me  directions  in  the  kindest  manner, 
and  turned  away.  The  night  "  was  on  me  ;"  the  road 
long  and  dreary,  was  before  me,  covered  with  coarse 
gravel,  without  the  smoke  of  a  cabin  or  the  sight  of  a 
sheep,  cow,  or  ass,  to  tell  me  that  I  was  not  alone  in 
the  world  The  stillness  of  death  reigned  ;  for  in  Ire- 
land the  night  knows  not  the  howl  of  the  beast  of  prey, 
and  it  was  not  the  season  for  the  chirping  cricket ; 
and  not  a  sound  for  more  than  a  weary  mile  once  broke 
upon  my  ear.  The  barking  of  a  dog  from  a  far  distant 
mountain,  suddenly  told  me  that  I  was  in  the  precincts 
of  man's  abode.  "  Welcome,  dog,"  I  said ;  ''  how- 
ever coarse  and  ugly  you  may  be,  you  have  the  voice 
of  a  dog,  and  could  I  reach  you,  I  would  pat  you  on 
the  head,  I  would  give  you  a  piece  of  bread  from  my 
bag;"  but,  alas!  I  had  but  a  scanty  crust.  The  Irish 
peasant  dogs,  like  their  masters,  are  patient  and 
kind  ;  many  a  one  has  met  me  at  the  door  of  a 
cabin,  and  instead  of  barking  as  a  surly  dog  would, 
by  the  wagging  of  his  tail  and  inviting  look  of  the 
eye,  said,  "  Walk  in,  walk  in,  stranger ;  my  mas- 
ter will  make  ye  welcome  to  our  fire  and  our  po- 
tato." 


353  CO.  OF  KERRY.  [chap.  xxi. 

If  ever  a  being  wanted  to  see  Maurice  Raheley,  I  was 
that  being.  At  last  1  descried  a  human  form  approach- 
ing. "God  save  ye  kindly,  lady;  and  what  misfortune 
has  brought  ye  among  these  lone  mountains  to-night  .'' 
I'm  sorry  for  ye  ;  for,  if  I  can  see  rightl}^,  ye're  no  com- 
mon body.  And  where's  the  comrade  that  should  be 
wid  ye  ?"  Telling  him  who  I  was,  and  what  was  my 
object,  he  added,  "  And  ye'll  soon  be  at  Maurice  Ra- 
heley's  lodgin',  God  speed  ye."  I  hurried  on  with  fresh 
vigor,  and  at  last,  on  a  hill,  the  slated  roof  of  the  long 
desired  dwelling  appeared.  Meeting  a  man  a  few  paces 
from  the  door,  I  said,  "  Is  this  the  lodging-house,  sir  ?" 
"  This  is  no  lodging-house  ;  but  he'll  keep  ye,  as  ye're 
alone  and  a  stranger."  My  heart,  which  had  been 
beating  high  with  expectation,  began  to  flag  a  little  ; 
but  wading  through  the  usual  preface  to  almost  every 
cabin  in  Ireland  (a  manure  heap),  I  met  at  the  crossing 
of  the  threshold,  cows,  calves,  sheep,  and  lambs,  occu- 
pying half  of  the  room,  which  was  made  up  with  a  host 
of  children,  and  I  asked,  "  Are  these  all  your  family, 
madam  .^" 

"  Some  of  them  are  man-sarvants  and  maid-sarvants, 
ma'am,"  was  the  reply. 

"  Do  you  take  lodgers  here  .^"     "  We  don't,  ma'am. " 

"  But  why  have  I  been  told  this  by  so  many  on  whom 
I  have  inquired  ?" 

"  I  know  not,  unless  to  lead  you  astray,  ma'am." 

"  And  what  am  I  to  do  ^  There  is  no  house  where  I 
can  go." 

"  We'll  not  send  you  out  to-night,  as  ye're  a  stran- 
ger." 

Soon  I  heard  the  sound  of  a  pot  behind  me  ;  the 
good  housewife  was  pouring  in  potatoes.  "  And  they're 
for  you,  ma'am,"  said  the  old  grandfather.  A  bowl  of 
milk,  saucer  of  butter,  and  cup  of  salt,  were  soon  be- 
fore me,  by  the  side  of  a  bountiful  plate  of  potatoes  ; 
and  while  I  was  taking,  with  a  high  relish,  my  potatoes 
and  salt  alone,  a  son  of  the  family  read  aloud  a  tract 
which  I  gave  him. 

In  the  midst  of  this  stable  the  mother  brought  out 
two  clean  linen  sheets,  and  aired  them,  lit  up  a  fire, 


CHAP.  XXI.]  CO.  OF  KERRY.  353 

and  soon  I  was  invited  "  down''  through  the  lodging- 
place  of  the  cattle,  into  a  bed-room  without  a  floor, 
with  a  proud  pile  of  more  than  fifty  bushels  of  potatoes, 
fresh  from  the  pit,  which  the  mother  said  was  but  a 
bit  for  all  the  family.  The  smell  of  these,  with  that 
issuing  from  under  the  door  where  the  cattle  lay,  and 
the  smoke  from  the  newly  made  turf  fire,  made  my  con- 
dition not  only  unpleasant,  but  so  suffocating,  that  I 
feared  at  times  serious  results.  Glad  was  I  when  the 
faithful  cock  in  the  next  room  announced  the  day.  I 
arose,  andaskingformy  bill,  was  answered,  "  Nothing." 
I  gave  him  the  usual  price,  an  English  sixpence,  and 
went  out. 

The  morning  was  beautiful,  the  light  and  shade  upon 
the  picturesque  mountain  which  I  must  cross  were  of  a 
new  and  varied  kind.  To  give  an  idea  of  them  I  can 
only  say,  cross  the  Kerry  mountains  in  a  clear  morning 
before  sunrise,  and  if  there  is  a  soul  within  you  capable 
of  being  roused,  that  soul  will  be  stirred.  I  soon  found 
myself  in  something  like  a  vast  amphitheatre,  with 
mountains  piled  on  mountains,  "  Alps  on  Alps  ;"  cov- 
ered with  heath,  without  a  tree,  the  sun-rays  streaming 
athwart  from  behind  me  to  the  top  of  the  mountains  be- 
fore, leaving  me  in  a  dusky  pleasant  solitude  which  was 
entirely  new.  I  walked  two  miles,  and  passed  one 
cabin  by  the  road-side,  and  a  few  scattered  ones  at  a 
distance  upon  the  sloping  hill.  The  enchantment  in- 
creased, and  the  breezes  of  heaven  that  morning  wafted 
a  new  and  exhilarating  fragrance.  I  sat  down  to  enjoy 
it  upon  a  moss-hillock,  and  commenced  singing,  for  the 
Kerry  mountains  are  the  best  conductors  of  sound  of 
any  1  have  ever  met  ;  they  in  some  places  not  only  give 
echoes,  but  thrills  as  the  ever-busy  wind  penetrates  the 
circles  and  caves.  I  had  sung  but  a  passage,  when,  from 
over  a  wide  stretched  valley,  a  mountain  boy,  with  a 
herd  of  cattle,  struck  up  a  lively  piper's  song,  so  clear 
and  shrill  that  I  gladly  exchanged  my  psalmody  for 
morning  notes  like  these.  It  was  to  me  a  hymn  of 
praise ;  it  said  that  God  had  compensated  in  part  for 


354  CO.  OF  KERRY.  [chap.  xxi. 

all  the  deficiencies  of  food,  raiment,  society,  &c.,  bj 
the  almost  hoi}''  inspiration  of  the  mountain  air,  which, 
in  spite  of  all  painful  drawbacks,  will  impart  a  spon- 
taneous cheerfulness,  keeping  pure  that  life-blood 
which  spreads  vigor  and  health  unsought  by  medicine. 
I  listened  till  a  pause  ensued,  and  again  commenced  ; 
instantly  he  responded,  and  though  the  distance  was 
a  mile  at  least,  yet  alternately  we  kept  up  the  song 
till  his  was  lost  in  the  distance.  Seeing  a  sparkling 
rivulet  leaping  down  the  mountain  before  me,  I  ascend- 
ed to  its  side,  stopped,  uncovered  my  head  and  hands, 
laved  and  revelled  in  almost  unearthly  delights.  The 
wide  circular  valley  at  my  feet,  the  Kerry  mountains, 
with  their  blossoming  heath  and  playful  streams,  were 
made  on  purpose  for  me,  surely,  that  morning,  for  they 
were  just  to  my  liking  ;  and  the  sun  and  heavens,  too, 
shed  a  light  which  said,  "  Look  !  for  you  never  again 
will  see  this  same  morning  on  this  same  Kerry  moun- 
tain." 

A  little  girl,  at  a  distance  upon  a  rock,  was  gazing 
in  astonishment,  wondering  at  seeing  a  moving  being 
with  a  bonnet  upon  her  head  on  this  mountain.  Still 
further  on  had  a  man  ascended  the  point  of  a  hill,  and 
stood  in  silence.  A  pony  slowly  approached,  looked, 
and  turned  away.  There  was  not  a  cabin  in  sight, 
nor  the  smoke  of  one  ;  but  somewhere  lived  men,  wo- 
men, and  children  in  these  defiles.  The  road  was  a 
new  one,  lately  cut  through  this  mountain  ;  no  carriage 
had  passed  it,  and  mine  was  certainly  the  first  Ameri- 
can foot  that  had  ever  trod  this  bold,  defying  height ; 
and  in  my  pride  I  looked  down  upon  cities,  with  all 
their  little  fripperies,  with  a  kind  of  contempt.  Ah, 
who  would  have  your  smoke,  your  bricks,  and  your 
marbles,  huddled  into  confirmed  streets  and  stenchy 
alleys,  when  the  unadulterated  air  of  heaven  might  be 
yours,  where  God  has  thrown  together,  in  awful 
grandeur,  piles  on  piles,  and  scattered  the  rising 
springs,  and  sent  down  the  laughing  rivulet,  and 
wound  the  serpentine  brook  and  river  in  every  varied 
profusion  }     Romantic  as  I  was,  the  spot  was  more  so ; 


CHAP,  ixi.]  CO.  OF  KERRY.  355 

and  as  I  sat  upon  a  rock,  eating  a  deliciously  sweet  and 
dry  crust,  with  my  bonnet  and  parasol  by  my  side  on 
this  fairy  spot,  had  youth  and  beauty  been  mine,  the 
pencil  of  a  tourist  might  have  made  out  a  mountain 
landscape  of  no  small  interest. 

I  must  proceed  ;  the  crust  was  finished,  the  mountain 
top  ascsnded.  I  looked  back,  and  could  my  voice 
have  reached  across  the  Atlantic,  I  would  have  shouted 
to  them,  "  Come  and  see  my  enviable  site."  I  was  not 
willing  to  turn  away  from  this  enchanting  eminence,  but 
through  the  cleft  upon  the  other  side,  scenes  as  beauti- 
ful caught  my  eyes.  A  wide  extent  of  valley  was 
spread  out,  interspersed  with  bog,  heath,  and  grass, 
with  the  prepared  ridge  for  the  potatoe  ;  far  beyond 
were  mountains,  grand  and  high,  lifting  their  proud 
summits  ;  now  and  then  a  pleasant  little  lake  was 
sparkling  in  the  sun-beam.  The  smoke  of  cabins,  and 
large  flocks  of  noble-looking  sheep,  were  scattered  here 
and  there.  Some  straggling  children  among  the  rocks 
saw  me,  and  looking  up,  paused  a  moment,  ran  toward 
a  cabin,  and  climbed  upon  a  pile  of  stones.  I  shouted 
and  shouted  to  them,  but  could  get  no  answer,  they 
seemed  rivited  to  the  spot,  unlike  all  upon  these  moun- 
tains, who  at  fii-st  sight  would  generally  run  at  full 
speed,  sometimes  screeching  with  fear,  then  ascend 
some  eminence,  and  when  I  had  well  passed,  burst  out 
into  a  wild  boisterous  laugh,  saying  in  effect, 
"  She's  gone,  she's  gone,  and  the  danger  is  over."  It 
was  only  in  the  wildest  mountains  that  the  children 
were  timid,  and  this  I  was  informed  was  occasioned  by 
never  having  seen  a  woman  with  a  bonnet  upon  her 
head ;  they  supposed  the  bonnet  was  a  part  of  the 
strange  being. 

As  I  descended  the  hill  upon  the  other  side,  new 
scenes  awaited  me.  The  treat  I  had  just  been  enjoy- 
ing was  too  rich  for  constant  food.  The  road  now  be- 
came almost  intolerable,  gravel  stones  had  been  flung 
on  for  ten  miles,  or  more,  without  being  trodden  down  ; 
my  feet  soon  were  blistered,  and  walking  was  grievous. 
Bridges    over   small    streams    were    not  made,  and  I 


356  CO.  OP  KERRY.  [chap.  xxi. 

must  cross  upon  slippery  stones,  or  wade.  I  cannot 
speak  ill  of  the  roads  of  Ireland,  for  in  most  parts  they 
are  not  only  good,  but  faultless,  and  this  would  fre- 
quently have  induced  me  to  walk,  had  I  no  other  cause. 
Often,  when  ray  indignation  against  the  rags  of  Ireland 
would  swell  across  the  channel  to  the  house  of  parlia- 
ment, "  Ah,  but  see  what  beautifully  enticing  roads 
have  they  made,  for  the  bare  feet  of  the  beggars  to 
walk,"  would  be  the  soothing  reply.  But  the  road  I 
was  on  had  not  been  finished  for  the  traveller.  Never 
before  could  I  realize  the  import  of  doing  penance  by 
walking  with  pebbles  in"  the  shoes ;  the  tops  of  my 
boots  were  loose,  and  every  few  moments  I  must  stop, 
and  pour  out  the  gravel-stones  collected  in  them.  Be- 
sides, 1  had  turned  from  the  route  intended  in  the 
morning,  which  was  to  Killorglin,  for  the  purpose  of 
going  through  the  Gap  of  Dunloe,  and  was  told  when 
it  was  too  late  that  it  would  lengthen  my  route  six 
miles. 

Night  was  coming  on,  and  a  lodging-house  was  the 
thing  really  needed.  One  was  pointed  to  me,  which 
when  reached  was  nothing  but  a  stable,  and  used  for 
cattle  as  well  as  people.  They  answered,  "  Never  mind 
him,  we  don't  take  lodgers."  Hobbling  along,  I  be- 
came an  object  of  great  wonder.  The  country  was  now 
thickly  sprinkled  with  cabins,  and  all  the  moving  beings 
which  they  contained  turned  out,  to  salute,  to  gape,  or 
to  follow  me.  My  sufi"ering became  so  acute,  that  I  felt 
like  fainting ;  and  stepping  to  a  door,  I  asked  if 
lodgings  could  be  found  in  the  vicinity.  "  Not  any 
this  side  of  Killarney,"  was  the  answer.  "  I  cannot 
reach  it  then,  and  must  stop  by  the  way-side."  I  had 
walked  more  than  twenty  miles,  ten  of  which  had  been 
on  round  or  sharp  pebbles  for  a  carpet ;  sometimes 
getting  upon  a  cart,  and  carrying  my  boots  in  my  hand 
for  a  little  mitigation.  I  had  eaten  nothing  but  the 
happy  dry  crust  on  the  enchanted  morning,  and  the  ag- 
gregate was  a  considerable  burden  to  think  of  support- 
ing four  miles  longer.  The  bare-footed  woman  of 
whom  I  inquired,  said,  '^  If  I  had  a  bed,  you  should 


CHAP.  XXI.]  CO.  OF  KERRY.  357 

not  go  any  furtlier  ;  but  come  in,  and  sit  down,  and  rest 
ye  a  bit."  This  I  did  not  refuse,  and  followed  her  into 
the  lodge,  sat  down  upon  a  bench,  and  there  remained. 
She  kindly  offered  to  do  the  best  she  could,  which  was 
to  put  some  straw  upon  the  floor,  and  place  me  on  it. 
This  was  a  rich  prospect.  The  potatoes  were  in  readi- 
ness, and  when  engaged  in  eating  them,  the  husband 
entered,  intoxicated,  wild,  and  noisy.  Never  were  a 
morning  and  evening  at  greater  extremes  than  this,  in 
my  state  of  feeling. 

1  could  not  get  away  :  the  scene  was  terrific.  Three 
men  entered,  two  to  drink  with  the  master,  and  the 
third,  a  tetotaler,  to  keep  the  whole  sober.  Till  one 
o'clock  they  stayed,  sending  out  a  girl  for  fresh  sup- 
plies, and  no  entreaties  could  get  the  man  of  the  house 
to  bed.  I  begged  the  sober  man  to  find  me  some  re- 
treat, but  he  could  not,  and  at  two  they  all  departed, 
leaving  three  females  to  contend  as  we  could  with  the 
infuriate  wretch,  who  had  undressed  himself  and  pro- 
mised to  lie  down,  before  the  sober  man  left  him.  As 
soon  as  the  men  had  passed  the  gate,  he  seized  the 
tongs,  grasped  the  throat  of  his  wife,  and  told  me  if  I 
spoke  or  attempted  to  stir,  he  would  throw  me  into  the 
river,  which  was  deep,  and  passing  under  the  window  of 
the  lodge.  The  affrighted  woman  struggled  and 
screamed,  and  I  succeeded  by  stealth  in  getting  the 
tongs,  and  carrying  them  out,  together  with  the  spade. 
It  rained,  and  1  stopped  out,  till  the  violence  within 
was  so  frightful  that  I  feared  murder  would  be  the  re- 
sult, and  ventured  in.  A  calm  followed,  and  he  ap- 
proached the  bed  of  his  three  affrighted  children,  bade 
them  a  long  farewell,  and  went  out  into  the  rain,  after 
putting  on  his  clothes. 

The  straw  was  spread  upon  the  floor  for  my  bed, 
and  without  any  covering  I  placed  myself  on  it.  The 
cock  at  the  door  soon  told  me  it  was  day,  and  though 
the  rain  was  still  pouring  I  said  good  morning  to  the 
suffering  woman,  and  went  out.  My  feet  were  so 
blistered,  the  road  was  so  clayey,  and  the  rain  poured 


358  CO.  OF  KERRY.  [chap.  xxi. 

so  profusely,  that  the  four  miles  to  Killarney  were  long 
and  sad  ones. 

Everything  was  done  by  the  good  Mrs.  C.  at  the 
lodging-house,  to  make  me  forget  the  sorrows  of  the 
last  twenty-four  hours  ;  and  a  Sabbath  of  quiet  so  re- 
freshed me,  that  on  Monday  I  ventured  upon  new 
perils.  I  had  found  in  all  my  tedious  walks  that  a 
night's  rest  restored  me  to  vigor,  so  that  I  was  prepared 
for  a  fresh  undertaking  every  morning,  even  when  chairs, 
or  a  pile  of  straw  might  be  the  bed.  Not  so  with  a  ride 
upon  a  coach.  It  was  almost  impossible  to  secure  a 
seat ;  and  when,  by  the  crowding  and  jolting  of  a  day's 
jaunt,  I  became  fatigued,  this  fatigue  made  a  visit 
often  of  many  days. 

The  gap  of  Dunloe  has  had  so  many  visitors  and  so 
many  historians — has  given  so  many  echoes,  and  paid  so 
many  guides — that  what  remains  for  me  is  to  say  that 
I  walked  five  miles  to  reach  it,  and  found  an  old  man 
at  the  entrance,  busied  in  his  field,  who  insisted  on 
leaving  all  to  accompany  me.  I  told  him  I  preferred 
the  walk  alone,  that  a  guide  would  confuse  me.  They 
always  hurried  on,  disgusting  me  with  all  sorts  of  fairy 
stories,  diverting  my  mind  from  everything  useful,  and 
leaving  it  in  a  labyrinth  more  bewildering  than  the 
voice  of  nature  with  the  eyes  for  handmaids.  "But 
ye're  a  stranger,  and  I  would  take  no  pay  ;  ye  cannot 
go  alone, "&c.  I  escaped,  and  entered  the  wonders.  The 
little  lake,  the  craggy  mountain  on  the  right,  and  the 
purple  one  on  the  left,  first  opened  to  view ;  the  rich- 
ness and  beauty  of  the  latter  scarcely  can  have  a  rival, 
and  most  of  the  peaks  on  both  sides  are  enveloped  in 
clouds, 

"  And  mid- way  leave  the  storm." 

A  rugged  foot-path  led  me  on  till  T  reached  a  cabin, 
and  a  young  man  was  ready  as  a  guide.  1  told  him  I 
could  make  no  possible  use  of  one.  "  But  he  can  show 
you  the  shortest  route."  This  was  true  Kerry  cun- 
ning ;  1  answered  him  that  it  was  impossible  to  stray 
from  the  path,  as  there  was  but  one,  and  that  could 


CHAP.  XXI.]  CO.  OF  KERRY.  359 

not  be  left  without  climbing  precipitous  rocks.  He 
turned  away,  and  in  an  undertone  said,  "  Ah,  she  un- 
derstands." Passing  out,  I  met  two  gentlemen  with  a 
guide,  who  had  half  an  hour  before  burst  a  good  rifle 
when  making  echoes.  When  they  had  passed,  I  sat 
down  upon  a  rock,  to  make  echoes  for  myself  by  sing- 
ing a  hymn,  and  these  two  gentlemen  concealed  them- 
selves to  listen,  returned  to  Killarney,  and  reported  that 
they  had  enjoyed  the  sweetest  echoes  imaginable  in  the 
gap,  from  a  crazy  woman,  who  passed  them  alone,  and 
sung  two  sweet  hymns,  while  they  were  secluded  within 
hearing.  The  novelty  of  seeing  a  woman  without  a 
guide  led  them  to  suppose  I  must  be  crazy.  I  soon  met 
another,  then  three  more,  all  insisting  that  I  must  have 
a  guide  ;  and  in  no  way  could  I  escape  but  by  insisting 
that  I  should  not  accept  of  one. 

At  last  this  pile  of  rocks  on  rocks,  mountains  on 
mountains,  was  passed,  and  I  stood  upon  the  top,  look- 
ing upon  the  other  side,  where  the  mountain  scenery, 
like  all  other  Kerry  beauties  and  sublimities,  must  be 
seen  to  be  understood.  I  had  read  something  of  them 
before  seeing  them,  but  had  no  just  conception  of  the 
reality.  Enjoying  the  treat  in  silent  admiration,  I 
heard  the  sound  of  footsteps,  and  looking  about,  was 
saluted,  "  Sure  you're  a  wonderful  wawker  ;  I  have  fol- 
lowed ye  a  mile  and  a-half  through  the  Gap,  and 
couldn^t  overtake  ye.  And  why  should  ye  be  alone  } 
Sure  the  like  of  ye  never  was  known  ;  an'  where  may 
ye  be  from  r"  '*  From  New  York."  "  From  New 
Yawrk  !  an'  what's  the  raison  that  ye're  here  alone  ? 
and  have  ye  no  comrade  .'"  *'  Not  a  comrade  in  the 
world,  sir,  nor  kindred  who  cares  for  me."  "  An' ye're 
come  to  this  poor  country  !  An'  ye  must  have  a  dale 
of  money."  Had  I  been  afraid  of  robbery,  I  should 
have  shown  him  my  purse  ;  but  looking  at  him  as  a 
whole,  I  feared  no  evil.  He  was  old,  carrying  a  staff 
from  necessity,  and  so  dirtily  dressed,  that  if  he  had  no 
living  things  about  him,  it  must  be  because  they  had 
left  to  find  a  richer,  cleaner  pasture.  The  path  wound 
around  the  mountain  to  a  deep  valley  at  the  head  of 


360  CO.  OF  KERRY.  [chap.  xxi. 

the  lake,  and  through  what  was  once  the  tasteful  do- 
main of  Lord  Brandon,  now  grown  over  with  weeds 
and  thistles,  and  looking  more  suitable  for  the  abode 
of  the  screeching  owl  and  dancing  satyr  than  the 
pleasure-grounds  of  a  lord.  A  slovenly  farmer  had 
rented  it,  and  left  everywhere  the  impress  of  sloth 
and  bad  taste.  His  wife,  when  we  entered  the  cot- 
tage, was  sitting  upon  her  haunches  on  a  settee,  with 
her  heels  drawn  under  her,  in  the  commendable  occu- 
pation of  knitting.  Her  children  and  domicile  appeared 
as  if  "  the  virtuous  woman,  who  looketh  well  to  the 
ways  of  her  household,"  had  not  passed  that  way.  The 
tower  and  garden,  like  Solomon's  field  of  the  slothful, 
were  grown  over  with  nettles,  and  the  stone  wall 
thereof  was  broken  down.  And  had  the  surly  owner, 
who  once  expended  thirty  thousand  pounds  to  make 
this  a  spot  of  proud  wonder  to  strangers,  been  allowed 
again  to  walk  over  these  grounds,  if  his  penurious  heart 
still  retains  any  earthly  relish,  he  would  have  dealt 
out  anathemas  against  the  miscreants,  who  had  so  effec- 
tually defaced  all  that  was  once  beautiful  in  the  eye  of 
the  visitor. 

I  bade  good  evening  to  the  housewife,  who  never  left 
her  post,  and  the  bold  officious  guide  followed  me  out 
to  ask  a  penny  for  tobacco.  So  annoyed  had  I  been 
with  his  company,  that  I  begged  him  to  return  when 
on  the  mountain ;  he  would  not,  and  I  resolved  that 
I  would  furnish  him  no  means  for  smoking,  as  a  com- 
pensation for  such  intrusion.  I  now  hoped  that  I  might 
be  suffered  to  make  my  way  alone,  to  what  place  I 
knew  not,  for  here  the  road  terminated.  Hyde  Park 
cottage  was  what,  when  I  left  Killarney,  I  hoped  to 
see,  but  at  this  place  was  told  that  it  now  existed  only 
in  name.  All  I  could  do  was  to  go  on,  and  make  a  path 
for  myself  through  mire  and  bog,  till  I  plunged  into 
a  thick  wood.  It  was  sun-set,  and  began  to  rain.  To 
go  back  through  the  gap  was  impossible  ;  and  before 
me  was  a  dark  wood,  without  a  path,  and  full  of 
pits  of  water.  I  looked  about  for  some  rock  under 
which    I    could     creep    and    stop    for   the    night  ;     a 


CO.  OF  KERRY.  361 


comfortable  one  soon  met  my  sight.  To  stay  under 
the  rock  would  ensure  me  a  shelter,  no  venomous  ser- 
pent was  there,  rain  could  not  reach  me,  and  I  felt  not 
the  least  timidity.  Had  a  father  or  brother  been  with 
me,  and  I  had  looked  to  him  for  protection,  I  should 
have  felt  some  repugnance  ;  but  the  Protector,  who 
was  constantly  about  my  path,  I  knew  never  ^'  slumbers 
or  sleeps,"  and  feeling  not  the  least  hesitation,  I  was 
about  stooping  to  make  my  ingress  ;  but  when  I  heard 
the  barking  of  a  dog,  and  the  sound  of  an  axe,  I 
demurred. 

The  rain  would  make  the  difficulty  of  getting  through 
the  swamp  greater,  and  I  waded  on.  A  cottage  ap- 
peared, but  they  did  not  take  lodgers.  This  was  the 
third  night  in  four  that  1  had  been  deceived  in  respect 
to  lodging-houses,  and  began  seriously  to  think  that 
Kerry  archness  had  been  gratifying  its  cunning  on  me. 
The  astonished  family  could  give  me  no  "  tay,  nor  no 
bread,  but,"  said  the  master,  "the  night  and  the  rain 
are  heavy  on  ye,  and  the  walk  is  seven  long  miles  to 
Killarney ;  ye  would  be  destroyed,  an'  we'll  give  ye  a 
bed."  The  cottage  had  a  stone  floor  ;  a  bright  wood 
fire  was  blazing,  the  floor  and  hearth  were  nicely 
swept,  and  no  astral  lamp  shone  brighter  than  did 
that  pleasant  fire.  The  sweet  days  of  childhood,  when 
the  green  mountains  and  valleys  of  Vermont  were  my 
home,  when  brothers  and  sisters  had  assembled  around 
the  glad  fireside,  rose  in  review. 

"  I  thought  of  the  days  of  other  years,  and  my  soul  was  sad," 

Never  in  Ireland  had  an  evening  of  such  welcome 
sadness  been  mine.  A  pot  of  black  minion  potatoes 
were  prepared  for  me,  while  the  family  waited  to  boil 
those  of  an  inferior  quality  for  themselves.  This  was 
genuine  cabin  hospitality.  They  had  a  few  choice  po- 
tatoes reserved  for  planting,  and  some  of  these  must 
be  provided,  because  the  stranger  must  not  have  an 
inferior  article.  We  talked  of  Dunloe,  of  Killarney, 
and  of  Hyde  Park,  the  owners  of  which  had  all  gone 
down  to  the  dust.  ''  But,"  said  the  man,  ^'  had  you  seen 
16 


CO.  OF  KERRY.  [chap.  xxr. 


the  rector  of  Hyde  Park,  he  was  the  one  that  the  peo- 
ple loved  ;  he  was  so  kind  to  the  poor  and  sick,  not  a 
hap'orth  of  a  cabin  in  all  the  parish  but  his  fut  was  in  ; 
and  though  he  was  a  Protestant,  yet  he  sarved  the 
Catholics  with  as  many  a  good  turn  as  he  did  his  own  ; 
and  when  he  died,  wasn't  there  the  lamentation  !  His 
people,  ye  must  know,  won't  have  the  Irish  cry  when 
their  dead  is  buried,  but  not  a  dry  cheek  was  there 
that  day  ;  and  when  they  brought  out  the  body  for  the 
hairse,  not  a  hap'orth  of  the  Catholics  would  let  'em  do 
it,  but  said  they  would  carry  it  on  their  shoulders,  and 
so  they  did.  Aw,  the  like  o'him  warn't  in  all  the 
country." 

A  chaff  bed  with  clean  sheets  was  placed  upon 
chairs  by  that  pleasant  fire,  and  an  invigorating  sleep 
prepared  me  for  a  fresh  walk  in  the  morning.  I  suc- 
ceeded in  leaving  a  few  pennies  when  I  went  away,  but 
regretted  that  1  did,  for  the  woman  accompanied  me 
out,  saying,  "  An'  sure  d'ye  think  we've  no  heart  for 
the  stranger  ?  An'  wouldn't  ye  do  the  like  for  me  in 
yer  country  r"  She  conducted  me  into  a  wood,  where 
a  beautiful  cascade  foaming  down  a  precipice  met  my 
eye. 

My  seven  miles'  morning  walk  was  but  just  com- 
menced, when  a  rosy  faced  girl  of  fourteen,  with  her 
apron  across  her  arm,  containing  a  few  groceries,  salut- 
ed me.  "  Good  morrow  kindly,  ma'am,  and  ye've  not 
been  to  Dinis  Island  ;  it's  but  a  mile  down  the  walk 
under  yer  fut,  and  the  road  to  Killarney  is  a  long  five 
miles.  Will  ye  turn  in,  and  I  will  show  ye  the 
cottage .'"  1  had  met  this  pretty  Kerry  girl  before, 
near  the  same  place,  who  had  urged  me  to  see  this 
island,  and  her  sweet  face  and  kind  manner  now  pre- 
vailed. .She  had  walked  nine  miles  that  morning,  and 
her  pretty  foot  was  not  soiled,  nor,  as  she  told  me,  was 
her  leg  weary,  though  she  was  much  concerned  for 
mine.  A  winding  path  through  a  beautiful  wood  took 
us  to  Dinis  cottage,  where  the  family  were  breakfast- 
ing on  bread  and  tea — the  bread  of  the  woman's  own 
making,  which  was  not  only  a  rarity,  but  a   delicious 


CHAP.  XXI.]  CO.  OF  KERRY.  363 

treat.  Th  ey  had  lived  sometime  iu  North  America, 
consequently  treated  me  kindly.  The  children  had 
clean  faces,  well-combed  hair,  tidy  apparel,  and  the  cot- 
tage bore  the  marks  of  the  industrious  house-keeper. 
They  were  Protestants.  The  mother  was  teaching  her 
children,  as  they  had  no  school  on  the  island.  But  sorry 
am  I  to  say,  that  in  no  family  had  I  heard  so  much  pro- 
fanity, both  from  mother  and  children.  I  would  not  ex- 
pose it ;  but  no  one  could  stay  in  the  house  many  hours 
jtnd  not  hear  it,  and  such  sins  should  be  rebuked  before 
all. 

A  day  and  night  passed  here  gave  me  a  good  ac- 
quaintance with  the  scenery  of  these  lakes,  which  con- 
vinced me  that,  to  admire  Killarney  beauties,  they  must 
not  too  hastily  be  hurried  over.  The  little  bare-footed  girl 
was  always  with  me  when  she  could  get  an  opportunity, 
and  had  been  quite  a  guide  to  strangers  on  that  island, 
and  was  very  intelligent.  But  Killarney  and  its  beau- 
ties must  be  left,  and  I  bade  Dinis  Island  a  long  adieu; 
I  returned,  and  prepared  for  leaving  Killarney,  and 
have  much  kindness  to  record,  as  exercised  towards  me 
in  the  inn  where  I  lodged,  by  mother  and  daughters. 
They  were  well  paid  for  what  they  did,  but  it  was  done 
with  so  becoming  a  grace  and  such  good  will,  that  it 
made  me  feel  an  obligation  which  is  a  privilege  to  ac- 
knowledge. When  1  was  out  all  night  at  Hyde  Park, 
they,  knowing  what  the  walk  must  be  even  with  compa- 
ny, were  much  concerned  ;  and  when  night  came  on, 
sent  about  the  town  to  make  inquiries.  Had  I  been  a 
member  of  the  family,  they  could  not  have  done  more. 
The  gentlemen's  telling  them  they  had  met  a  "  crazy 
woman  "  in  the  gap,  was  all  the  information  they  could 
get  of  me  until  the  next  day. 


364  CO.  OF  KERRY,  [chap.  xxii. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 


Tralee — Public-house  honesty — A  '•  Gentlenipu" — Mr.  Walpole's  Honorable 
Dealings — Christianity  at  Dingle — ■' They  always  Stand'' — One  Bright  Spot — 
The  Converts — Education  of  the  Lower  Order — Nancy  Brown's  Parlor — Co- 
quetry and  Gallantry — Peasant  Girl's  Poetry — Learned  Priest — Sybil  Head — 
"  Look  !  Look  !" — Fearless  Children — Disappointment  and  Vexation — Candid 
Hotel-keeper — Banks  of  the  Shannon. 


Thursday,  at  four  o'clock,  I  took  the  car  for  Tralee. 
The  ride  was  through  a  somewhat  dreary  part  of  the 
country,  with  little  that  was  interesting ;  but  the  adven- 
tures at  Tralee  were  comical,  if  not  tragical. 

Arriving  at .  the  town,  a  bevy  of  applicants  from 
Walpole's  hotel  poured  upon  me,  to  take  me  to  his 
inn,  and  to  Dingle  on  his  car  the  next  day.  I  told  them 
1  did  not  choose  an  inn,  but  private  lodgings.  This 
did  not  shake  them  off,  till,  jumping  from  the  car,  I 
begged  some  one  to  show  me  suitable  lodgings.  One 
was  pointed  out  to  me  across  the  way  ;  I  escaped  into 
the  house,  and  the  troop  in  pursuit.  I  had  but  just 
seated  myselfain  a  chamber,  when  a  civil  young  man 
stepped  after  me,  and  inquired  if  I  wished  a  conveyance 
to  Dingle.  Saying  that  I  did,  he  then  said,  '■  To-mor- 
row at  eleven  1  will  give  you  a  seat  on  my  car  for  three 
shillings."  The  distance  to  Dingle  was  little  more  than 
thirty  miles.  I  made  the  engagement,  gave  him  my  lug- 
gage, and  as  he  passed  out  he  said,  "  You  won't  disap- 
point me,  J  hope."  "  Certainly  not,"  was  the  answer. 
When  he  had  gone,  I  found  that  his  was  an  opposition 
car,  that  Mr.  VYalpole  had  occupied  the  road  for  years, 
had  made  money  by  it,  and  charged  more  for  the  fare. 
More  of  this  to-morrow. 

The  house  I  was  in  was  a  whiskey  den,  and 
leaving  my  gloves  and  pocket-handkerchief  upon 
a    table    in  my    room,    1     stepped    down,     and    told 


CHAP.  XXII.]  CO.  OF  KERRY.  365 

the  woman  who  was  selling  the  baneful  commo- 
dity that  though  I  had  asked  for  lodgings  in  her 
house,  yet  I  could  not  stay  to  leave  one  shilling  in  a 
place  devoted  to  such  evil  work,  and  begged  her  to 
think  seriously  of  the  degrading  wicked  business  she 
was  in,  and  abandon  it  for  one  that  was  more  honest. 
She  was  angry,  and  talked  as  a  woman  would  talk  in 
such  an  employment ;  and  while  I  was  standing  there, 
my  gloves  and  handkerchief  were  taken.  I  mentioned 
it  to  the  woman,  who  refused  making  inquiry.  I  told 
her  this  was  proof  positive  of  what  had  so  offended  her, 
that  the  employment  was  dishonest,  and  those  who  were 
engaged  in  it  were  not  to  be  trusted  in  matters  where 
self-interest  was  concerned. 

The  young  man  was  at  the  door  with  whom  I  was 
to  go  to  Dingle,  and  went  with  me  to  another  lodging 
house,  where,  though  no  whiskey  was  sold,  yet  the  sad 
effects  were  manifested  about  three  o'clock  in  the 
morning,  by  a  loud  thundering  at  the  door,  demanding 
entrance  in  a  most  outrageous  manner.  The  good 
woman  arose,  put  her  head  out  of  the  window, 
and  inquired  who  was  there,  and  what  was  wanting. 
*'A  gentleman  was  there,  and  wanted  his  hat,"  was 
the  answer,  and  that  he  would  have,  if  not  peaceably, 
by  violence.  The  mistress*  told  him  his  hat  was  not 
there  ;  he  told  her  it  was.  She  answered  that  he  had 
not  been  in  the  house,  but  he  assured  her  he  would  be 
in,  and  commenced  another  battering  with  fists  and 
boots,  till  the  distracted  woman  in  self-defence  went 
down  and  opened  the  door.  The  '^gentleman  "  searched 
for  his  hat,  but  no  hat  was  there,  and  he  walked  quietly 
away. 

I  passed  a  miserable  night,  took  a  miserable 
breakfast  in  a  miserably  dirty  room,  and  went  out. 
Before  eleven,  which  was  the  carman's  appointed 
hour,  I  returned  to  my  lodgings  to  be  in  readiness, 
when  two  young  lads  entered,  asking  if  I  had  any 
trunks,  and  said  the  car  was  ready.  I  told  them  my 
luggage  was  in  the  care  of  the  carman,  and  he  had 
'said  he  should  go  at  eleven,  and  it  was  not  the  hour. 
"  The  car  is  ready,  and   you  must  hurry  to  the  post 


366  CO.  OF  KERRY.  '  [chap.  xxii. 

office  and  pay  fare."  I  did  so,  and  as  I  handed  the 
money  into  the  hand  of  the  clerk,  the  man  who  had 
engaged  to  take  me  to  Dingle,  stepped  near,  and  said, 
"You  have  paid  into  the  wrong  office."  The  fraud 
was  evident.  They  had  watched  where  I  changed  my 
lodgings,  when  I  left  the  night  preceding,  and  had  sent 
these  lads  to  secure  my  money  before  the  time  that  I 
was  to  go  out.  1  turned  to  the  clerk,  telling  him  I 
had  been  deceived,  had  made  a  previous  engagement 
with  the  young  man,  and  he  now  had  my  luggage. 
He  refused,  declaring  he  would  pay  no  money  back, 
that  the  car  was  ready,  I  might  take  it  or  leave  it  at  my 
option  ;  my  money  was  in  his  hands,  and  there  it  should 
be,  but  he  would  condescend  to  take  me  to  Dingle  for 
the  three  shillings.  A  crowd  assembled.  A  policeman 
said,  "  We  can  do  nothing  for  you,  but  you  should  con- 
sult   ,  Esq."     He  was  a  peace-maker  in  the  town, 

and  would  persuade  Walpole  to  do  right. 

The  peace-maker  appeared ;  the  portly  Mr.  Walpole 

appeared  also.     '*  W^hat  do  you  want, ,  Esq. .''" 

"  To  inquire  into  the  affair  concerning  this  stranger." 
"  There  is  a  car  ready,  she  has  paid  her  money  to  me, 
and  she  may  go  or  stay  ;  her  money  she  shall  not  have." 
I  pleaded  a  stranger's  claim,  a  female  and  unprotected. 
1  appealed  to  an  Irishman's  honor  to  an  American,  on 
whose  shores  so  many  of  his  countrymen  had  found  a 
welcome  home.  He  sullenly  refused  ;  the  magistrate 
told  him  it  was  kidnapping,  and  begged  him  to  return 
the  money.  The  great  and  the  small  were  there,  and 
the  good  feeling  of  the  police,  and  indeed  all  but 
the  man  himself,  deserve  my  acknowledgment.  One 
whispered  in  my  ear,  "He  is  not  an  Irishman,  but 
a  Scotch  Presbyterian."  I  turned  to  Walpole,  and  told 
him  I  was  happy  to  learn  that  he  was  not  an  Irishman, 
and  now  better  understood  my  true  condition.  The 
young  man  generously  offered  to  give  me  my  baggage, 
or  carry  me  for  nothing,  as  I  had  once  paid.  1  told 
him  1  would  not  ride  with  a  man  who  would  defraud 
a  stranger,  neither  would   1  take   his   car  without  pay- 


CHAP.  XXII.]  ^        CO.  OF  KERRY.  3ti7 

ing,  but  would  walk  to  Dingle  it'  he  would  carry  my 
luggage.  I  went  on,  the  policeman  begging  me  to 
ride,  and  the  poor  following  and  saying,  "  Ye'd  be  de- 
stroyed, and  he's  a  rich  old  blackguard.  The  young 
man  that  has  the  car  is  as  fine  a  lad  as  ye'd  find  in  the 
country."  One  poor  woman,  with  an  infant  in  her 
arms,  went  out  of  town  more  than  a  mile,  barefooted 
and  bareheaded,  though  the  sun  was  scorching ;  nor 
could  I  prevail  on  her  to  return.  "  Ye're  a  lone  stranger, 
and  that  blackguard  of  a  Scotchman  to  trate  ye  so." 
When  she  saw  me  well  out  of  town,  she  returned,  and 
I  walked  eight  miles  in  torment  with  blistered  feet, 
which  had  not  been  healed  since  my  Killaruey  expedi- 
tion. The  carman  then  overtook  me,  with  five  on  his 
car,  and  prevailed  on  me  to  be  the  sixth.  We  arrived 
at  Dingle  at  nine  o'clock,  and  I  stayed  at  the  house  of 
his  sister  where  he  lodged,  and  found  the  same  accom- 
modations, the  same  food,  and  the  same  kindness  as  in 
all  houses  among  the  poor. 

In  the  morning  I  arose  in  the  celebrated  town  of 
Dingle,  a  "  city  on  a  hill."  Distant  as  it  is  from  all 
the  world  beside,  yet  it  has  for  the  last  few  years  said 
to  all  who  would  hear,  "  Turn  aside,  and  look  at  me." 
Its  bay  is  full  of  interest,  and  its  people  more  so  ;  and 
as  the  people  were  my  object,  I  must  talk  of  them.  A 
Catholic  woman  of  much  good  nature  and  some  intelli- 
gence called  early,  and  offered  to  accompany  me  to  see 
the  town.  Her  first  depot  unasked  was  to  the  house 
of  a  priest  ;  considerable  time  was  taken  to  get  an 
introduction  to  his  presence,  and  when  we  did,  his 
every  look  and  taciturnity  seemed  to  say,  "  what 
brought  you  here  .'"  He  was  the  first  I  had  met  who 
showed  reserve,  but  Dingle  had  been  struggling  with 
party  creeds,  and  as  the  "soupers,"  as  the  Protestant 
converts  are  called,  were  getting  quite  numerous,  the 
priest  had  all  his  sensibilities  awake  to  keep  the  prowler 
from  making  further  inroads  into  his  fold.  A  new 
comer  from  a  foreign  country  might  be  the  very  "wolf 
in  sheep's  clothing"  to  beguile  more  of  the  faithful, 


368  CO.  OF  KERRY.  [chap.xxh. 

and,    as  I   was   afterwards  informed,  he  therefore  kept 
more  caution.     So  I  was  sent  empty  away. 

Having  an  invitation  from  the  wife  of  a  Protestant 
clergyman,  sent  by  the  gardener,  I  made  my  way 
up  the  hill,  in  company  with  a  tidy  looking  Catholic 
girl  to  lead  me  to  the  door.  Supposing  myself  invited, 
I  made  no  hesitation  in  saying  to  the  servant  (who 
was  a  long  time  answering  the  knock),  that  I  was  the 
person  Mrs.  G.  had  invited,  giving  my  name.  Mrs. 
G.  was  engaged.  "Will  you  give  my  name.'"  I 
asked.  "  She  is  very  busy."  What  could  this  trifling 
mean  f  Had  the  gardener  deceived  me  ?  Is  this  the 
house  of  a  missionary  r  When  will  the  nonsense  of  a 
silly  world  lose  its  hold  of  the  professed  Christian 
church  }  I  went  away  disgusted,  and  was  descending 
the  hill  when  a  message  was  sent,  "  Will  you  come 
back.'"  I  answered,  it  was  of  no  consequence.  "The 
mistress  sent  me  to  ask  you."  I  returned,  met  the 
lady  in  the  hall,  to  whom  I  said,  "  Is  this  Mrs.  G., 
and  was  a  message  sent  to  me  by  the  gardener .'" 
"Walk  in,"  was  the  answer.  "It  is  of  no  conse- 
quence," I  said.  "Walk  in."  I  followed  into  the 
parlor,  and  was  immediately  asked  my  message  to  Ire- 
land. It  was  told,  and  likewise  that  I  had  called  on 
the  Catholic  priest.  Surprised,  she  suddenly  answered, 
"  And  what  did  you  call  on  him  for  ?  I  will  never 
go  near  any  of  them.  They  are  a  persecuting  people." 
"  I  thought  they  weie  the  subjects  we  were  to  strive  to 
benefit,  and  how  can  we  do  them  good  by  keeping 
aloof.'"  "  When  they  come  to  us,  we  always  receive 
them  kindly,  but  we  do  not  proselyte.  Though  we  are 
accused  of  going  after  them,  we  do  not ;  neither  do  we 
bribe  them,  as  it  is  said  of  ns,  by  feeding  them  and 
promising  high  wages.  There  is  a  man,"  pointing  to 
one  in  the  field,  "  who  works  faithfully  here  through  the 
week  for  eight-pence  a  day.  Do  you  call  that  bribing 
him?  He  is  glad  to  h'lve  it."  "  I  call-that  oppres- 
sion," was  my  answer.  "  Well,  he  is  glad  to  do  it." 
Again  she    interrogated,  "  Do  you  make  a  practice 


CHAP.  xxn.J  CO.  OF  KERRY. 


of  going  among  the  Catholics.^"  ''  I  mako  a  practice 
of  going  among  all  the  poor  without  distinction,  but 
am  sorry  to  say  that  '  my  own'  often  reject  me,  and  I 
should  more  than  once  have  been  without  a  shelter,  if 
the  Catholics  had  not  received  me,  when  the  Protes- 
tants would  not." 

1  gained  but  little  information,  though  the  missionary 
himself  and  his  friend  Mr.  C.  were  present  ;  the  latter 
I  had  been  told  was  a  spiritual  Christian,  and  I  hoped 
from  him  to  learn  the  true  state  of  things.  They  all 
acted  as  if  dinner  were  cooling,  and  the  sooner  this 
Jesuitical  spy  shall  have  done  the  better.  The  poor 
woman  who  had  accompanied  me  stood  in  the  hall  during 
the  hour  that  I  stopped,  and  I  begged  the  mistress  to 
give  her  a  seat  or  send  her  away.  "  No  matter,  they 
always  stand,"  was  the  answer. 

I  went  away  without  declining  dinner,  for  no  invita- 
tion was  given ;  and  will  not  be  so  independent  as  to 
say  that  I  was  not  disappointed.  I  was  grieved  ;  not 
for  the  personal  treatment,  but  grieved  that  so  noble, 
so  apostolic  a  work  was  in  the  hands  of  those  whose  hos- 
pitality, whose  humility,  whose  courteousness  to 
strangers,  and  whose  self-denial,  were  so  far  behind  the 
principles  they  professed  to  inculcate.  I  went  to  the 
house  with  no  prejudice,  hoping  to  h-'-n  a  true  state- 
ment of  the  good  work  going  on ;  and  the  poor  waiting 
Catholic  woman,  who  was  not  a  "  souper,"  was  telling 
me  on  the  way  th  i^  she  knew  I  should  be  treated  kind- 
ly, and  when  we  turned  from  the  door,  she  said,  "  I  was 
sorry  she  kept  ye  so  long,  and  didn't  ask  ye  to  take  a 
comfortable  bit." 

My  accLuaintance  in  life  had  ever  been  much  among 
the  clergy,  and  though  I  had  long  since  known  they 
were  not  exempt  from  the  frailties  of  human  nature, 
and  that  Christ's  example  was  always  the  safest  to  fol- 
low, yet  I  had  never  seen  them  so  little  given  to  hospi- 
tality, so  uncourteous  to  strangers,  and  so  outwardly 
conformed  to  the  maxims  of  the  world,  as  some  I  had 
met  in  Ireland ;  and  yet  I  heard  many  edifying  sermons 
from  them. 

16* 


370  CO.  OF  KERRY.  [chap.xxii. 

My  prospects  brightened  a  little  when  I  was  in  the 
evening  introduced  into  a  Methodist  family.  Every 
Christian  kindness  was  here  shown  that  could  be,  and 
I  was  conducted  to  a  comfortable  room,  and  told  by 
the  "  prudent  wife"  that  here  was  the  Christian  pil- 
grim's room,  always  kept  to  entertain  strangers. 
"  Here,"  she  added,  ''  you  may  find  a  welcome  home 
while  in  Dingle."  Her  husband  was  a  coast-guard,  a 
noble  Irishman  of  whom  his  country  might  be  proud. 
Three  daughters  and  a  son  composed  this  happy 
family.  It  was  a  family  well  ordered,  and  one  of 
happy  Christian  love.  Here  I  stayed,  and  here  I  loved 
to  stay  ;  hero  the  morning  and  evening  prayer  ascended 
from  hearts  kindled  by  Christian  union.  Sabbath 
morning  I  walked  two  miles  to  a  poor  dwelling,  in 
company  with  Mrs.  J.  and  her  daughter,  to  meet  with 
an  humble  few  in  a  little  class  meeting,  and  to  hear  • 
from  these  poor  cabiners,  in  this  remote  part  of  the 
earth,  that  same  dialect  which  is  spoken  wherever  the 
story  of  Calvary  has  been  told.  It  was  pleasant,  it 
was  good  to  be  there.  How  many  times  in  Ireland 
have  I  blessed  God  that  he  sent  the  ever-stirring, 
warm-hearted  Methodists  into  that  island.  Their  zeal 
has  a  redeeming  quality  in  it  that  few  others  manifest  ; 
it  never  goes  out  ;  the  bush,  though  burning,  is  never 
consumed. 

Attended  church  and  met  tho  converts,  and  whether 
they  had  changed  the  Latin  version  for  the  English, 
in  changing  their  prayer  books,  and  knew  not  the 
difference,  I  know  not,  but  only  a  few  among  them 
could  read.  I  visited  the  converts,  and  talked  with 
them  on  their  great  change,  and  found  them  as  I  found 
their  Papist  neighbors,  in  all  respects  but  one.  They 
invariably  answered  me,  when  1  inquired  concerning 
the  great  change  that  had  taken  place  in  their  minds, 
"  We  do  not  worship  images."  But  what  the  new 
birth  implied,  or  any  work  of  conviction  and  operation 
of  the  Holy  Spirit  on  their  hearts,  they  could  tell 
nothing,  for  they  seemed  to  know  nothing.  But  here 
I   would   be  understood.     I   did  not  talk  with  all  the 


CHAP.  XXII J  CO.  OF  KERRY.  371 

converts  of  Dingle,  and  would  not  presume  to  say  but 
that  God  has  done  a  great  work  there  ;  if  he  has,  man 
cannot  overthrow  it ;  if  he  has  not,  man  cannot  support 
even  what  they  seem  to  have.  But  this  is  certain, 
that  they  have  the  unadulterated  Word  of  God ;  and  if 
they  cannot  read  it,  they  hear  it,  and  some  seed  may  be 
sown  on  good  ground,  and  bear  fruit.  I  visited  the 
Protestant  and  national  schools  in  Dingle  ;  the  infant 
school  was  under  good  regulations  ;  the  national  school 
in  so  boisterous  a  state,  that,  with  knocking  and  calling, 
we  could  not  be  heard,  and  were  obliged  to  go  aloft 
into  the  second  room,  and  there  things  seemed  but  a 
little  improved.  We  had  some  specimens  of  grammar 
and  geography  from  the  noisy  urchins,  which  would 
puzzle  the  most  learned  of  any  language  to  define,  and 
we  went  out  with  a  rabble  of  boys  in  pursuit,  calling 
out,  "American!  American!"  till  we  reached  our 
homes. 

Our  next  excursion  was  to  Ventry.  Here  is  a  colony 
of  the  new  converts,  with  a  clergyman  at  their  head, 
who  was  once  a  Catholic  priest.  A  pretty  little  vil- 
lage, and  everything  about  it  more  inviting  than  other- 
wise. We  visited  the  Protestant  school,  and  here  found 
a  young  lady  teaching  a  class  of  promising  young 
misses ;  but  when  we  inquired  if  they  were  studying 
geography,  as  we  saw  maps  hanging  in  the  lower  end  of 
the  room,  the  answer  surprised  my  Protestant  friend, 

Mrs.  J .     "  The  maps  are   for  the  boys ;   these 

are  the  daughters  of  the  lower  order,  and  we  do  not 
advance  them."  "But  have  they  not  talents  to  be  cul- 
tivated f  and  is  not  this  a  professedly  Christian  school, 
instituted  by  missionaries  .-"  "It  is,"  she  answered; 
"but  I  must  do  as  I  am  bidden.  They  are  poor,  and 
must  be  educated  according  to  their  station."  Again  1 
enforced  the  obligation  imposed  on  us  by  Christ,  to 
"  occupy  till  he  come."  She  did  not  understand  me  ; 
and  though  she  belonged  to  the  Protestant  Church,  I 
could  not  see  that  her  dark  understanding  had  ever 
been  enlightened  by  the  Spirit  of  God,  or  that  she  was 
any  more  capable  of  teaching  spiritual  things  than  the 


37'2  CO.  OF  KERRY.  [chap.  xxii. 

Catholics  about  her  whom  she  viewed  as  being  so  dark. 
We  visited  a  few  converts  in  the  cabins,  and  I  was 
afterwards  cautioned  not  to  go  there  again,  as  the  cler- 
gymen had  given  them  notice  that  they  must  not  receive 
me  into  their  houses.* 

The  next  day  we  visited  a  school  of  the  nuns.  Here 
were  more  than  three  hundred  of  the  poor,  taught  in 
the  most  thorough  manner.  Their  lessons  in  grammar, 
geography,  and  history,  would  do  honor  to  any  school, 
anf  their  needlework  was  of  the  highest  order.  The 
teacher  observed,  "  Though  they  are  the  children  of  the 
poor,  we  do  not  know  what  station  God  may  call  them 
to  fill.  We  advance  them  as  far  as  possible  while  they 
are  with  us.  The  Protestants,"  she  added,  "  do  not 
teach  the  poor  anything  but  reading,  writing,  and  arith- 
metic." 

"  What  a  rebuke,"  said  my  friend,  ''  is  this  on  the 
practice  of  Bible  Christians  !  Here  is  a  nun  spending 
her  whole  life  in  teaching  the  poor,  without  any  com- 
pensation, and  saying,  '  We  don't  know  what  station 
God  may  want  them  to  fill,  and  we  advance  them  as 
far  as  we  can.'  "'  Three  nuns  were  giving  their  whole 
time  in  this  school. 

The  bay  and  mountains  about  Dingle  are  objects  of 
considerable  interest.  Connor  Hill,  upon  which  a  road 
is  made  through  a  rock  which  hangs  frightfully  over 
the  head  of  the  traveller,  and  the  steep  descent  to  a 
lake,  are  grand  objects.  The  government  has  certainly 
given  incontestible  proof  that  rocks,  mountains,  and 
water  are  no  effectual  impediments  to  making  good 
roads  in  Ireland.  Why  can  it  not  surmount  the  rocky 
difficulties  of  the  people,  cut  them  through,  give  them 
a  tolerable  place  among  the  children  of  men,  and  en- 
able them  to  walk  forth  over  these  roads,  not  as  beasts  of 
burden,  clothed  in  rags,  but  like  men  made  in  God's 

*  This  did  not  offend  me,  neither  do  I  blame  him.  I  mention  it 
only  as  one  manifestation  of  the  watchful  jealousy  maintained  by 
different  parties  to  keep  both  their  creed  and  character  from  conta- 
mination. 


CHAP.  jxii.J  CO.  OF  KERRY.  373 

image,  enjoying  the  blessings  which  are  made  for  all, 
and  should  be  possessed  by  all  ? 

We  attempted  to  ascend  Connor  Hill  by  a  circular 
route,  but  the  higher  we  ascended  the  more  the  distance 
seemed  to  increase,  and  we  sat  down  under  a  passing 
cloud,  which  so  enveloped  us,  that,  though  in  the  morn- 
ing, it  appeared  quite  like  gathering  evening,  and  the 
cold  was  very  severe.  I  was  glad  to  get  away,  for  a  pres- 
sure upon  the  chest  made  me  feel  a  difficulty  in  breathing. 
We  returned  home,  and  passed  an  immense  pile  of  stones, 
which  had  been  gathered  by  passing  travellers,  who  al- 
ways added  one  to  the  heap,  in  commemoration  of  a 
young  man  who  died  on  that  spot  when  going  out  for 
America.  Silly  as  was  the  superstition,  I  added  one  to 
the  mountain. 

We  visited  "  Nancy  Brown's  Parlor."  This  is  a 
rock  projecting  into  the  sea,  with  a  seat  upon  it  like  a 
settee  ;  a  romantic  spot.  At  the  left  is  a  deep  dark 
cavern  of  water,  running  under  the  precipice,  which  fills 
the  mind  with  wonder  and  sublimity.  The  morning 
was  propitious,  and  below  us  upon  the  strand  might  be 
seen  women,  some  with  jugs,  and  some  with  sea-weed, 
children  picking  shells,  and  not  the  least  interesting 
were  the  busy  sea-gulls,  hopping  from  rock  to  rock, 
or  alighting  upon  the  water,  in  pairs.  One  couple, 
who  had  stood  upon  a  craggy  rock  talking  in  the  most 
aflfable  manner,  amused  us  by  a  piece  of  gallantry,  as 
we  supposed  of  the  gentleman,  which  would  do  honor  to 
any  man  in  like  circumstances.  They  had  sat  talking 
for  some  time,  when  a  surging  wave  dashed  over  them 
and  concealed  them  from  our  sight ;  they  appeared 
again  as  the  wave  retired,  in  the  same  position,  when 
the  adventurous  Miss  gracefully  sailed  away,  and  seated 
herself  upon  a  rock  in  the  water  at  a  distance,  looking 
back  to  the  mate  she  had  left,  who  for  a  time  sat  un- 
moved as  if  saying,  "you  have  rudely  left  me,  and  I 
will  not  follow  you."  But  in  a  little  time  he  was  at 
her  side,  and  they  commenced  a  close  chat,  and  then 
they  both  gracefully  sailed  back  to  the  rock  they  had 
left.     We  could  not  tell  whether  he  was  gently  chiding 


374  CO.  OF  KERRY.  [chap.  xiii. 

her  for  leaving  him,  to  venture  further  into  the  deep,  or 
whether  he  was  congratulating  her  on  her  dexterity  in 
keeping  her  footing,  when  the  foaming  wave  dashed 
so  furiously  over  her  white  wing.  It  was  a  pretty 
sight. 

When  returning,  we  met  a  peasant  girl,  with  her 
dress  turned  over  her  head,  who  in  the  most  earnest 
manner  spoke  in  Irish,  and  beckoned  us  to  go  further. 
We  declined,  and  she  changed  her  laughing  look  for  one 
of  pitiful  endearing  disappointment,  which  prevailed 
with  me,  and  I  said,  "  We  will  go."  She  exultingly 
bounded  away,  leading  us  forward,  looking  back  to  en- 
courage us,  for  the  way  was  precipitous  and  somewhat 
difficult,  till  she  placed  us  upon  an  awfully  grand  preci- 
pice. Here  she  stopped,  and,  in  the  most  animated 
manner,  pointed  us  down,  then  to  a  mountain  across 
the  channel,  then  to  the  golden  stripes  of  the  sun  upon 
the  water,  then  to  the  sea-gulls,  then  to  the  eastern  sky, 
which  was  extremely  beautiful ;  and  when  she  saw  we 
understood  and  were  pleased,  she  was  delighted.  Had 
she  been  a  well-educated  girl,  she  could  not  have  dis- 
played more  taste  for  the  sublime  and  beautiful.  She 
was  pretty  in  look  and  graceful  in  manner,  and  when 
we  parted,  and  saw  her  entering  the  mud-wall  cabin,  a 
companion  of  pigs,  with  no  employment  but  feeding 
them  and  milking  a  goat,  or  gathering  turf  from 
some  bog,  we  said,  what  a  pity  that  such  an  intellect 
should  be  lost,  and  who  must  account  for  all  this 
waste  ?  What  a  pity  that  government  or  aristocratic 
pride  should  place  barriers  to  the  improvement  of  the 
talented  poor.  In  no  civilized  nation,  probably,  is 
there  more  waste  of  mind  than  in  Ireland.  Should  any 
dispute  this,  let  him  visit  the  county  of  Kerry.  The 
wild  children  there  among  the  mountains,  who  spend 
their  time  in  herding  cattle,  often  show  the  quickest  per- 
ception of  all  that  is  lovely  in  nature,  and  will  answer 
your  questions  with  a  clearness  that  would  do  honor  to  a 
refined  people. 

Saturdaj/j  April   \2lh. — Made    an    excursion   which 
will  long   be  remembered,  in  compayy  with  Mrs.   S., 


CHAP,  xxn.]  CO.  OF  KERRY.  375 

(the  woman  who  first  introduced  me  to  the  priest,  and 
to  the  family  who  so  kindly  entertained  me),  and  the 
two  Miss  Jaeksons,  and  little  Thomas  the  brother. 
We  were  supplied  with  a  basket  of  bread  and  meat 
for  the  dinner,  and  bound  for  Dunquin.  The  kind 
loquacious  Mrs.  S.  had  a  favorite  priest  to  whom  she 
wished  to  introduce  me  on  the  way.  An  old  church, 
and  some  Ogham  stones  which  had  long  puzzled  anti- 
quarians, must  first  be  seen,  and  then  we  were  ushered 
in  to  see  the  priest.  He  was  sitting  by  the  fire,  read- 
ing a  newspaper,  surrounded  with  Latin  authors 
of  various  descriptions,  and  piles  on  piles  of  the  most 
antiquated  looking  books  in  Hebrew,  Greek,  and 
Latin.  He  received  us  with  the  greatest  kindness, 
and  the  most  simple  urbanity  of  manners,  and  never  in 
Ireland  had  I  spent  an  hour  where  so  much  real 
knowledge  had  fallen  on  my  ear.  He  was  truly  a 
learned  antiquary  ;  retired  in  this  desolate  part  of  the 
earth,  buried  in  his  musty  books,  he  had  gathered  rich 
materials  for  thinking  and  conversation.  He  showed 
us  printed  volumes  of  more  than  two  hundred  years  old, 
one  a  geography,  one  a  dictionary,  and  a  few  histories. 
He  urged  us  to  stay  and  take  some  refreshment.  He 
was  old  and  infirm,  but  insisted  on  accompanying  us  to 
the  gate,  upon  the  top  of  the  pillars  of  which  were 
two  cannon  balls,  which  Cromwell  had  left  in  besieging 
the  place.  I  felt  regret  in  leaving  this  complaisant 
old  man,  for  he  united  the  benevolent  gentleman  with 
the  learned  linguist  and  antiquary.  I  have  since  been 
told  he  is  much  esteemed  by  all  classes. 

We  proceeded  across  a  strand,  where  the  sand  was 
so  mellow  that  our  poor  horse  could  scarcely  proceed, 
and,  to  make  up  the  dreadfuls,  one  of  our  traces  broke. 
Happily  a  rope  was  found,  or  we  might  have  been  left 
to  wade  through  the  sand  and  wet,  but  we  dragged 
through  half  a  mile,  and  found  ourselves  on  firm  foot- 
ing. Our  next  object  was  a  tower  near  the  top 
of  Sybil  Head,  and  after  sitting  down  upon  the  beach 
and  taking  a  hearty  lunch,  the  young  ladies  and  I  pro- 
ceeded.    The  way  was  tedious,   and  the  wind  strong, 


376  CO.  OF  KERRY.  [chap.  xxn. 

but  after  much  toiling  and  resting  we  readied  the  edi- 
fice. 

The  tower  was  erected  for  a  telegraph,  and  was 
going  to  decay.  Supposing  this  was  the  only  object 
of  curiosity,  I  felt  a  little  disappointed.  Leaving  the 
young  ladies  in  the  tower,  I  ascended  the  mountain, 
which  appeared  at  the  top  a  sharp  ridge  like  the  roof 
of  a  house.  I  was  just  about  taking  the  last  step 
to  gain  the  height,  and  then  call  out  that  I  was  on  the 
loftiest  peak  of  Sybil  Head,  when  a  little  unobserved 
shepherd-girl  called  out,  "  Ye'll  be  destroyed  !  Look, 
look  !"  I  looked,  and  started  back  with  horror.  A 
precipice  overlooking  the  sea  many  hundred  feet  below, 
presented  itself,  a  wall  secured  a  little  part,  and  then 
a  shelving  rock,  bending  over  the  waves,  which  were 
dashing  and  roaring  with  awful  grandeur.  1  heard 
the  roaring,  but  supposed  it  was  the  sea  we  had  left 
at  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  and  but  for  the  little 
shepherd-girl  should  doubtless  have  stepped  over  into 
the  awful  abyss.  Children,  it  seemed,  were  peculiarly 
my  guardian  angels  in  L^eland  ;  three  times  they  have 
saved  me  from  immediate  destruction  by  their  care 
and  kindness.  The  rocks  upon  a  part  of  this  ridge  are 
like  an  inclined  plane  put  there  by  the  Great  Archi- 
tect, and  form  a  good  security  to  the  cautious.  My 
young  companions  placed  themselves  in  a  condition  to 
look  over,  lying  down,  while  I  held  their  feet ;  one 
hasty  peep  was  all  I  ventured,  it  was  enough.  A 
young  lad  and  two  girls  were  tending  cattle  on  this 
awful  brow,  sheep  were  grazing  upon  the  brink,  and 
little  girls  spent  the  livelong  day  sporting  near  its  very 
edge,  as  unconscious  of  danger  as  the  bird  that  flies  over 
them. 

O  those  sweet  shepherd  children  !  Everywhere  on 
the  coast  I  found  them,  and  everywhere  I  found  them 
kind  and  simple-hearted,  knowing  nothing  of  the  con- 
taminating influences  of  cities,  and  gentle  as  the  sheep 
they  are  tending.  Often  have  I  seen  them  sitting  on 
the  brow  of  some  hill,  or  on  a  rock,  their  silken  hair 
waving  in  the  breeze,  their  feet  naked,  a  stick  in  one 


cHAP.xxu.]  CO.  OP  KERRY.  377 

hand,  and  sometimes  a  leaf  of  a  book  in  the  other,  and 
I  blessed  the  Father  of  all  mercies  that  he  had  left  in 
one  island  of  the  sea,  a  people  who  still  retain  the  sim- 
ple life  and  simple  manners  of  patriarchal  days.  From 
the  sheep-fold  was  the  sweet  psalmist  of  Israel  taken  to 
be  king,  and  in  that  humble  employment  was  his  heart 
moulded  to  all  those  soft  touches,  which  so  move  the 
soul  in  his  psalms. 

When  I  looked  on  these  Kerry  girls,  I  thought,  shall 
I  pity  such  loveliness  .'  Shall  I  wish  to  tear  you 
away  to  pent-up  cities,  to  cramp  your  minds  to  fashion's 
moulds,  when  here  Nature,  in  all  her  forms  and  freaks, 
both  beautiful  and  sublime,  is  before  you  !  The  moun- 
tain breeze  is  ever  fanning  their  dark  hair,  they  know 
nothing,  they  heed  nothing  of  the  vain  show  of  the 
world,  but  are  content,  when  at  night  they  have 
herded  their  flock,  to  lie  down  in  their  cabin  till  the 
early  dawn  shall  again  summon  them  to  the  mountains. 
We  asked  one  of  these  little  girls,  who  was  sitting  upon  the 
very  edge  of  the  precipice,  if  she  had  no  fear.  ''  Not 
any,  miss,"  was  the  answer.  I  was  glad  to  leave  it,  yet 
I  could  not  but  look  upon  what  we  had  left  as  the  most 
awfully  grand  spot  I  had  ever  visited. 

When  we  reached  our  car,  our  company  were 
patiently  waiting,  but  to  my  awful  disappointment  told 
me  there  was  not  time  to  visit  Dunquin,  and  Mrs.  S., 
who  seemed  to  be  the  heroine  in  all  this  day's  ma- 
noeuvring, told  me  she  had  never  heard  of  it  before. 
I  have  found  some  fault  with  others  in  this  work,  and 
have  recorded  some  of  their  misdoings,  and  am  not  so 
vain  as  to  suppose  I  have  passed  through  the  length 
and  breadth  of  Ireland,  and  not  done  some  things  and 
said  some  things  out  of  time  and  season.  Now  here  1 
made  a  little  mistake,  and  am  happy  to  acknowledge  it 
as  publicly  as  I  mention  the  mistakes  of  others.  This 
woman  had  a  kind  heart,  and  had  manifested  as  much 
of  it  towards  me  as  a  poor  woman  could  do  ;  she  had 
taken  much  pleasant  trouble  to  arrange  affairs  for  this 
trip,  she  had  waited  patiently  upon  the  beach  while  we 
were  exploring  wonders  above  her,  and  when  we  came 


378  CO.  OF  KERRY.  [chap.  xxij. 

down,  was  in  readiness  to  go  home.  When  I  mention- 
ed Dunquin,  her  surprise  appeared  to  me  like  real 
intrigue.  I  thought  she  could  not  but  know  that 
it  was  the  object  of  my  journey,  and  I  told  her  so  in 
lano-uasce  which  she  understood  and  felt.  I  hate  de- 
ceit,  and  thought  here  was  full  proof.  The  time,  too, 
I  could  not  think  was  so  far  spent ;  but  here  she  was  in 
the  right,  and  had  I  taken  my  own  course,  and  persuad- 
ed the  driver  to  take  us  the  perilous  route,  which  was 
nine  miles,  it  would  have  been  a  frightful  expedition 
indeed.  But  we  weVe  saved,  in  spite  of  my  determina- 
tion to  the  contrary. 

So  much  for  disappointment,  and  hatred  of  deceit, 
and  so  much  for  not  feasting  my  eyes  on  Dunquin, 
which  had  been  a  most  ardent  desire  of  my  heart. 
But  Dingle  must  be  left.  My  stay  had  been  a  long 
one,  and  notwithstanding  that  all  the  good  people  there 
did  not  understand  what  kind  of  religion  one  must 
possess,  to  be  concerned  about  any  party  but  one's  own, 
and  that  self-denial  is  neither  to  be  required  nor  expected 
ISOO  years  after  the  pattern  was  set  in  the  church — 
that  the  world  is  constantly  improving,  and  the  church 
must  keep  pace  with  it  or  lose  her  respectability — yet 
there  were  a  few  that  received  Christ's  legacy  with  all 
its  tribulations.  With  these  few  I  had  passed  profita- 
ble hours,  and  from  these  few  I  regretted  to  part. 
But  the  morning  came,  when  the  car  must  go  out  to 
Tralee.  Mr5.  Jackson  was  early  preparing  me  refresh- 
ments for  my  journey,  and  by  the  middle  of  the  day  I 
was  in  Tralee,  and  stayed  long  enough  to  write  a  note 
to  my  friend  Mr.  Walpole,  which  I  presume  was  not 
so  palatable  as  another  three  shillings  would  have 
been.  My  next  car  that  day  took  me  to  Tarbert ;  stayed 
at  a  hotel  ;  the  price  was  exorbitant,  and  when  I 
expressed  my  surprise  to  the  woman,  saying  no  other 
hotel  in  Ireland  was  so  high,  her  answer  was  cer- 
tainly a  candid  honest  one,  "  I  intend  to  make  all  I  can 
out  of  every  one  that  comes  here,  and  if  I  can  make  a 
shilling  out  of  you,  I  will." 

A    walk    around     the  bay    gave    a    beautiful   view 


CHAP.  XXIII.]  CO.  OF  LIMERICK.  379 

of  this  ancient  place.  The  promontory  on  which  the 
light-house  stands,  with  a  few  tasty  buildings,  was  a 
fairy  spot.  I  was  shown  the  remains  of  old  forts,  which 
a  gentleman  standing  by  said  were  built  by  the  Danes, 
who  once  figured  here  to  great  advantage,  till  driven  out 
by  the  spirited  Irish.  Sending  my  baggage  to  the  steam- 
boat, I  walked  three  miles  on  the  borders  of  the  Shan- 
non, to  see  the  beauties  of  the  country,  and  the'  Knight 
of  Kerry's  demesne,  which,  like  all  the  demesnes  in  Ire- 
land, is  more  proud  than  humble. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

Sail  up  the  Shannon  .to  Limerick— Poorhouse  Stirabout— Sleepless  Night  at 
Ennis — Town  without  Bread — Grievous  Ignorance — ^True  Delivery  of  my  one- 
armed  Charioteer — Basket  of  Bones— My  Carpet-bag  ransacked — Learned 
Schoolmaster — Exchange  of  Compliments — Red  Petticoats — Old  Pedlar  and 
his  daughter — Temple  of  Nature — The  back  of  the  Barracks — ^Marble  Quarry 
— Completely  Watersoaked — Connemara  Hospitality — Bundles  of  Straw — Sab- 
bath in  the  Mountain  Cabin. 

I  TOOK  my  seat  in  the  steam  packet  as  a  deck  pas- 
senger, which  in  Ireland  is  synonymous  with  a  corner 
in  a  Christian  Church  in  America  for  colored  people. 
Here  I  found  a  multitude  of  well-dressed  and  ill- 
dressed,  informed  and  uninformed,  many  of  them  going 
to  take  passage  for  America.  The  sail  on  this  noble 
river,  the  Mississippi  of  Ireland,  was  pleasant,  and  the 
city  of  Limerick  one  of  business  and  beauty.  I  found 
a  neat  inviting  lodging-house,  kept  by  a  well-bred 
woman  from  Dublin  ;  and  so  pleasant  was  my  stay  here, 
I  regretted  leaving  the  city.  The  town  did  not  appear 
so  poverty-stricken  as  many ;  the  people  looked  intel- 
ligent, and  the  activity  reminded  me  a  little  of  busy 
New  York.  I  perambulated  the  town,  and  inquired 
of  cobblers  and  tinkers  what  was  this,  and  what  was 
that.  One  explained  to  me  all  the  wonders  he  knew 
of  the   ancient  cathedral,  where  hung  or  one  end  the 


380  CO.  OF  CLARE.  [chap,  xxiii. 

cannon  balls  which  were  taken  from  it  in  Cromwell's 
wars.  It  is  now  used  for  a  military  school  and  a  Pro- 
testant place  of  worship.  The  city  is  three  miles  in 
circumference  ;  and  but  one  gate,  called  the  water 
Gate  of  St.  John's  Castle,  is  now  standing  of  the  seven- 
teen which  were  there  in  1760.  I  found  a  laboring 
man  near  the  poor-house,  who  told  me  there  were  1700 
inmates,  and  "  I  don't  knojv  what  to  say  of  the  stira- 
bout there  they  give  'em."  "  And  what,  sir,  is  the 
matter  with  the  stirabout .'"  ''  Why,  by  dad,  ma'am, 
'twould  give  a  man  walk  quawrters  to  ait  it.  They  say 
it  runs  like  wawter. "  This  I  found  was  the  universal 
cry  of  all  the  beggars  throughout  Ireland,  when  told  to 
go  to  the  poor-house.  "  The  stirabout  is  so  walk,  that 
'twould  take  the  life  of  ye."  My  stay  in  Limerick  was 
too  short,  though  I  saw  the  whole  town  and  its  outward 
curiosities.  The  people  was  what  I  wanted  to  see.  At 
three  I  took  a  car  for  Ennis,  an  ancient  town  going  to 
decay.  Clare  Castle,  standing  a  little  distance  from  the 
town,  now  the  abode  of  soldiers,  makes  a  pretty  appear- 
ance at  the  bridge  upon  the  banks  of  the  river.  Here 
too  are  the  remains  of  a  Franciscan  monastery,  and  you 
are  told  of  a  great  battle  fought  here  in  1298. 

The  coachman  said  he  would  take  me  to  suitable 
lodo:ino;s,  and  these  lodgincrs  were  his  own  house.  His 
wife  told  me  I  must  sleep  with  her  if  I  stopped.  It  was 
dark,  and  I  was  shown  into  a  chamber  where  were  three 
beds,  and  finding  a  child  in  the  filthy  one  prepared  for 
me,  I  wrapped  my  cloak  about  me  and  lay  across  the 
foot.  At  two  o'clock  the  family  came  into  the  chamber, 
and  were  soon  snoring  about  me,  while  I  kept  vigil 
through  the  whole  night. 

Sabbath.  Mr.  Murphy  preached  a  most  solemn  ser- 
mon on  the  judgment,  and  pointedly  applied  it  to  all 
classes,  especially  the  rich,  who  bring  up  their  chil- 
dren for  this  world.  The  building  had  once  the  finest 
gothic  aisles  that  ever  adorned  a  church  in  Ireland. 
Went  again  in  the  evening,  and  heard  a  second  ser- 
mon from  the  same  man,  and  wandered  about  the  town 
till  darkness  warned  me  to  return.     But  the  lodging  ! 


CHAP,  xxrii.]  CO.  OF   GAL  WAY.  381 

I  had  not  slept  a  moment  in  Ennis,  and  I  inquired  if 
my  room  was  the  same  ?  *^  Where  you  slept  last  night," 
w^s  the  answer.  Determining  that  my  bed  should  be 
changed,  even  if  it  were  for  the  worse,  I  went  out,  and 
from  house  to  house  made  diligent  search.  The  army 
was  going  through  the  town,  and  lodging-places  were 
taken  up.  A  woman  interested  herself,  and  after 
many  fruitless  applications  she  hit  upon  an  expedient. 
"  Good  luck  to  ye,  I  have  it !  a  genteel  woman  lodgin' 
with  me  will  give  ye  a  part  of  her  bed,  and  she's  a 
lady  that  wouldn't  disgrace  any  body  in  the  kingdom. 
Here,  miss,  I've  brought  a  fine  lady  from  America, 
who  wants  a  lodgin',  and  sure  ye  wouldn't  refuse  her 
half  of  yer  bed.  She's  alone,  a  stranger,  and  ye  know 
it  isn't  for  the  money  I  would  take  her."  The  miss 
gave  a  sideways-glance.  "And  'tisn't  every  stranger 
I'd  be  takin'  into  my  bed ;  and  how  came  ye  without  a 
lodgin'  so  late  at  night .?"  This  was  all  sterling  sense, 
and  telling  her  how  I  come  in  this  plight,  she  changed 
her  tune  and  bade  me  welcome.  But  I  made  only  a 
sorry  change  with  regard  to  comfort,  though  not  so  many 
chums  in  my  room.  Paid  three  pence  for  my  lodging, 
and  took  the  car  for  Gort,  and  reached  it  at  ten 
o'clock. 

Here  I  went  from  street  to  street,  and  almost  from 
door  to  door,  to  find  a  roll  of  bread  and  a  cup  of  cocoa. 
There  seemed  to  be  nothing  to  eat,  and  twice  when  I 
asked  for  bread,  the  answer  was  "  The  people  of  Gort 
don't  eat,  ma'am;  we  have  no  bread."  I  knew  not 
what  to  say,  or  what  to  do  ;  at  last  I  found  a  few  small 
loaves,  and  took  a  penny's  worth,  and  left  the  town  to 
walk  to  Oranmore,  a  distance  of  fourteen  miles.  Gort 
is  a  neat  little  town,  pleasantly  situated,  but  the  an- 
swer to  the  question,  "  How  are  you  getting  along  in 
Gort .'"  was,  "  The  same  as  everywhere.  Badly  en- 
tirely, ma'am  ;  Gort  is  a  poor  little  town  :  the  poor  gets 
no  labor,  thank  God." 

The  day  was  unusually  warm  for  April,  the  sun 
scorching,  and  my  feet  sore  :  I  often  found  occasion  to 
call  at  a  cabin  to  rest.     One  woman  was  standing  at 


382  CO.  OF  GAL  WAY.  [chap,  xxiii. 

a  corner,  waiting  my  approach,  and  called  out,  "  Good 
morrow,  ma'am  ;  ye  look  wairy,  come  in  and  rest  ye 
a  bit."  The  simple  manners  of  these  unsophisticated 
peasantry  are  so  much  like  the  patriarchs  of  old,  that, 
in  spite  of  their  untidiness,  they  cannot  but  be  inter- 
esting to  every  lover  of  antiquity.  "  An'  would  ye 
take  a  sup  of  milk.^"  Telling  her  I  never  used  it, 
"  What  can  I  get  ye  }  I  have  no  bread."  I  thanked 
her,  and  could  only  satisfy  her  by  saying  that  I  had 
just  been  eating  some.  She  then  sat  down  to 
admire  my  "  comely  dress  ;"  a  little  boy  came  in, 
and  she  asked  him  who  I  was.  "  A  lady,  ma'am." 
"  See  how  quick  he  answers ;  he  knows  ye  are  a  lady, 
because  ye're  clane  and  proper."  The  ignorance  of  this 
woman  was  painful ;  she  seemed  to  know  nothing  be- 
yond her  own  cabin.  Seeing  that  she  wanted  a  pin,  I 
gave  her  a  couple  of  rows ;  the  paper  was  red,  and  she 
admired  it  with  great  wonder.  A  son  of  twenty  came 
in,  and  she  immediately  presented  the  paper  to  him. 
They  both  held  it  up,  and  endeavored  to  look  through 
it,  and  both  seemed  delighted  at  the  novel  sight.  I  was 
really  unhappy  at  seeing  these  innocent,  kind-hearted 
creatures  of  want,  dying  for  lack  of  knowledge.  Yes, 
dead  as  to  anything  appertaining  to  this  life,  for  they 
had  no  comforts  for  the  body,  and  they  lived  neglected, 
and  apparently  knew  little  else  but  what  instinct  dic- 
tated. 

Passing  on,  I  reached  the  hospitable  house  of  Oran- 
more,  where  I  stopped  in  November,  and  was  received 
with  the  kindest  greetings,  and  kept  without  expense. 
The  Conuemara  girl  had  long  been  gone,  but  no  other 
changes  had  taken  place. 

A  night's  rest  refreshed  all  but  my  feet,  and  I  at- 
tempted to  walk  to  Galway,  as  I  had  sent  on  my  carpet 
bag,  and  felt  a  little  uneasy.  The  distance  was  but 
four  and  a  half  miles,  but  my  feet  soon  became  so 
painful,  that  it  seemed  quite  impossible  to  proceed. 
An  old  woman  saluted  me,  "  An'  ye'll  be  kilt  with  walk- 
in',  an'  wouldn't  ye  ride  for  sixpence  t  1  know  a  poor 
man  who  keeps  a  little  ass,  that  would  gladly  take  ye 


CHAP,  xxui.]  CO.  OF  GALWAY.  383 

for  that."  She  took  me  to  a  hovel,  and  called  out, 
"  Here,  John,  wouldn't  ye  take  a  lady  to  Galway  for 
sixpence  ?"  "  And  that  I  would,"  said  John,  jumping 
out  of  bed.  It  was  eight  o'clock ;  the  children  were 
preparing  for  school,  and  though  ragged  they  were  not 
dirty.  There  were  five  of  them,  all  with  black  hair 
and  eyes,  and  the  mother  was  a  comely  well-bred  wo- 
man. The  man  had  but  one  arm,  and  no  means  of 
support  but  by  his  cart  and  ass.  In  a  few  moments 
all  was  ready.  I  insisted  that  he  should  stop  and  eat 
his  potatoe,  though  I  saw  none  preparing.  I  found 
aftei  wards  he  had  none,  and  no  prospect  of  any  till  the 
sixpence  should  be  earned.  It  was  a  touching  case  of 
uncomplaining  want.  When  we  were  going  away,  the 
woman  said,  "  Maybe  the  lady  hasn't  got  the  change 
now."  Taking  the  hint  that  she  wanted  the  sixpence, 
I  said  "  Yes."  But  the  poor  man's  sensitiveness  was 
awakened,  and  he  hurried  me  away  with  "  Never  mind 
— never  mind,"  which  made  me  anxious  to  hear  his 
history.  He  had  been  a  herder,  with  twenty-five 
pounds  a  year,  and  brought  a  swelling  on  his  arm  by 
lifting,  which  after  twelve  months  of  sufi"ering  ended  in 
amputation.  He  lost  his  employment,  and  could  do 
nothing  but  drive  about  that  little  ass  and  cart.  ''  A 
kind  gentlewoman,  ma'am,  was  all  my  hope  for  many  a 
year,  who  called  on  me  to  go  on  an  errand  to  fetch 
a  bucket' of  water,  and  never  gave  me  less  than  a  shillin'; 
and  many  a  sorry  day  since  I  knew  not  where  to  get  the 
potatoe.     But  God  is  good." 

We  were  now  joined  by  a  woman  who  had  walked 
from  Gort  to  Oranmore  the  evening  previous  after  four 
o'clock,  and  was  now,  with  a  burden  on  her  back, 
going  to  Galway.  She  said  she  was  forty-seven,  the 
mother  of  nineteen  children,  and  but  three  of  them 
alive  ;  the  youngest  that  died  was  two  years  old.  Gay 
and  cheerful,  '^  light  of  foot,"  she  was  quite  an  inte- 
resting object.  We  were  soon  joined  by  an  old  woman, 
who  was  sitting  upon  a  wall,  with  a  basket  upon  her 
back,  which  caused  my  coachman  to  quicken  his  speed, 
declarins:  "the    same  that  she  carried  in   her  basket 


384  CO.  OF  GAL  WAY.  [chap,  xxiii. 

was  enough  to  give  us  all  the  plague,  and  I'll  not  be 
her  company,"  whipping  the  poor  ass,  while  the  old 
woman  was  determined  not  to  be  outdone — the  Ameri- 
can lady  she  must  see.  The  first  good  woman  was 
quite  annoyed,  and  begged  her  to  keep  a  little  off. 
"  What,"  I  inquired,  "  are  the  contents  of  the  basket  ?" 
"  A  dead  horse's  bones,  which  she's  goin'  to  sell, 
ma'am."  This  was  to  me  a  new,  degrading,  and 
humiliatincr  mode  of  earnino^  bread,  which  I  never 
could  have  thought  woman  would  be  compelled  to 
undei^take.  Three  well-dressed  young  ladies  mingled 
in  the  group,  for  they  had  a  curiosity  to  get  a 
glimpse  of  the  American,  and  accosted  me  quite 
pleasantly,  not  in  the  least  regarding  what  company 
was  about  them.  But  the  man,  by  jerks  and  blows, 
succeeded  in  leaving  the  bones  in  the  rear  before  we 
reached  town. 

What  subjects  for  contemplation  has  this  morning 
presented!  The  humble  clean  family;  the  uncomplain- 
ing children  going  out  to  school  without  any  breakfast ; 
the  suffering  man  still  retaining  a  sense  of  honor  in 
refusing  the  money,  and  a  sense  of  propriety  in  es- 
caping from  the  woman  and  basket  ;  the  sad  state  to 
which  a  country  must  be  reduced,  when  the  cheapest 
article  of  food  could  not  be  purchased  by  the  poor  in  a 
season  of  plenty,  sufficient  to  make  them  comfortable ; 
and  where  woman  is  made  to  be  anything  but  what  God 
ordained  or  fitted  her  to  be,  the  dishonor  instead  of 
the  "  glory  of  man." 

I  gave  the  poor  man  a  few  pennies  more  than  the  six- 
pence, and  this  so  affected  him,  that  I  was  glad  when 
he  bade  "  God  speed,"  and  hastened  to  buy  his  pota- 
toes. Was  it  ever  so  with  any  people  f  And  will  God 
always  see  the  poor  man's  want,  and  not  relieve  him  r 
If  the  cries  of  Ireland  do  not  reach  his  ears,  their  pa- 
tience surely  must,  and  he  will  come  in  judgment  or 
mercy  to  their  aid. 

I  called  at  my  old  lodgings,  was  welcomed,  and 
learned  that  the  asthmatic  mother  had  gone  down  to 
the  grave,  and  that  comfortable  lodofings  could  be  given 


CHAP.  XXIII.]  CO.  OF  GALWAY.  385 

without  taking  a  room  with  "  John."  I  first  hastened  to 
the  car-offico  to  make  arrangements  for  Clifden,  and 
there  found  my  carpet-bag  upon  the  floor  in  the  cor- 
ner broken  open,  and  the  articles  flying  in  fragments 
about  it.  I  inquired  the  cause  of  the  agent,  who 
insolently  answered,  "  Your  things  are  all  there.  An 
officer's  wife  said  she  had  examined  them,  and  found 
the  value  was  not  much,  and  she  had  left  them  as  she 
found  them ;  but  I  must  have  an  additional  shilling  for 
my  trouble,  or  the  luggage  shall  not  leave  the  office." 
1  asked  him  whether  as  a  stranger  I  had  merited  such 
treatment.  He  cared  nothing,  he  said,  for  strangers, 
nor  anything  for  Americans.  Ofi"ering  a  sovereign  to 
change,  "he  should  change  it  when  he  knew  the 
weight,  but  should  not  trust  to  my  honesty."  The 
sovereign  was  weighed,  and  proved  to  be  more  than 
weight.  He  took  the  shilling,  and  asked  my  name  to 
enter  on  the  book.  I  declined,  and  told  him  I  should 
have  no  more  to  do  with  Bianconi's  cars.  That  I  had 
paid  him  considerable,  and  this  was  not  the  first  time 
that  I  had  been  treated  rudely  and  unkindly  by  his 
agents. 

"  I  am  quite  sorry,  ma'am.  I  should  be  glad  of  your 
money,  and  you  will  wear  yourself  out  by  walking." 
Telling  him  that  would  be  my  misfortune,  I  passed  out, 
found  the  one-armed  man,  and  agreed  with  him  to  take 
me  fourteen  miles  for  two  shillings.  His  price  was  a 
shilling  a  day,  and  he  could  perform  this  journey  in  a 
day.  He  went  home,  and  I  to  my  lodgings,  and  early 
in  the  morning  was  prepared  for  the  ride,  but  no  man 
appeared.  I  took  my  parasol,  leaving  my  luggage,  and 
went  on,  hoping  the  old  man  might  soon  follow.  The 
wife  of  a  pooi^  curate  soon  joined  me,  with  two  fine 
boys,  a  book  and  a  rattan,  going  on  a  two  miles'  excur- 
sion for  exercise  and  air,  and  gave  me  as  much  talk  as 
I  could  reasonably  ask  concerning  religious  societies 
in  Galway.  She  deplored  greatly  the  delusions  of 
Romanism,  but  the  divisions  among  Protestants  she 
thought  were  more  to  be  regretted  than  all.  Her  huS' 
band,  she  said,  was  a  spiritual  indefatigable  laborer  in 
17 


386  CO.  OF  GAL  WAY.  [chap,  xxiii- 

the  cause  of  Christ,  and  had  lost  a  promised  promo- 
tion from  the  bishop,  because  he  had  sought  to  obey  a 
higher  jNIaster  than  an  earthly  one.  My  next  call  was 
to  the  house  of  a  very  ciyil  shoe-maker,  whose  wife 
showed  me  every  attention,  and  conducted  me  into  the 
Isational  School,  where  I  heard  better  specimens  than 
usual  of  reading  and  grammar,  and  what  is  quite 
noticeable  in  all  schools,  a  knowledge  of  arithmetic 
beyond  the  years  of  children  in  other  countries.  My 
best  wishes  for  the  success  of  public  schools  in  Ire- 
land, for  the  more  I  see  of  them,  the  more  do  I 
expect  that  great  good  will  be  the  result.  I  passed 
two  other  schools  that  day,  but  was  not  in  time  for 
either. 

The  last  four  miles  of  my  journey  I  had  the  company 
of  a  police-officer.  I  have  invariably  found  these  men 
civil  and  sober,  and  a  great  blessing  to  Ireland  as  she 
now  is. 

My  place  of  stopping  was  Outerard.  A  clean  house 
and  hospitable  woman  gave  me  a  pleasant  evening. 
The  town  is  a  tidy  one  in  outward  looks,  and  is  some- 
what celebrated  for  having  a  mineral  well,  and  a  sal- 
mon-leap in  the  river.  A  bathing  house  is  made  in  a 
rock  of  curious  construction,  and  a  cottage  of  such 
beautiful  finish  that  it  is  an  ornament  to  the  town,  and 
a  standing  monument  of  the  correct  taste  of  the  doctor 
who  designed  it.  The  family  refused  any  compensa- 
tion, sending  me  away  with  the  kindest  wishes,  and  I 
turned  into  a  house  where  were  huddled  a  group 
of  boys  and  girls.  Certainly  if  there  is  any  skill 
in  packing  lumber,  they  had  acquired  it,  and  any  merit 
in  a  desire  for  instruction,  they  deserve  it.  When 
I  entered,  the  '^  master  skilled  to  rule"  was  standing, 
one  foot  upon  a  chair,  his  elbow  resting  upon  his 
knee,  spectacles  across  his  nose,  a  pen  in  his  hand, 
which  he  was  mending,  ever  and  anon  flourishing  it, 
as  he  vehemently  expatiated  on  some  clause  in  the 
lesson  he  was  explaining.  He  bowed  long  and  low  to 
me,  and  then  spoke  in  Latin  to  a  boy  who  answered 
in  the  same  language.     Then  turning  to  a  bevy  in  a 


CHAP.  XXIII.]  CO.  OF  GAL  WAY.  387 

dark  corner,  who  were  urging  their  rights  by  hunches 
and  threats,  he  told  them  that  the  wandering  Arab  in 
the  great  desert  of  Sahara,  or  the  Siberian  at  the 
frozen  regions  of  the  north,  could  as  well  understand 
the  meaning  of  civility  as  they  ;  and  should  he  enjoin 
taciturnity  (though  that  was  too  refined  a  word  for 
such  boors  as  he  had  before  him),  they  would  as 
readily  obey  him. 

"  I  have  done  much,  honored  lady,  for  these  lads 
before  you,  and  to  say  the  truth  they  are  the  first  fel- 
lows in  the  kingdom.  Come  here  ;  let's  hear  you  con- 
jugate this  verb."  Before  the  boy  had  half  run 
through,  "  There,  lady,  what  do  you  think  of  my  man- 
ner of  teaching  .^"  "  It  cannot  be  disputed,  sir."  "I 
ought  to  be  promoted  for  what  I  have  done.  Go  on, 
honey,  and  tell  the  whys  and  wherefores.  And  so 
you  see,  lady,  no  stone's  unturned."  I  assured  him  I 
had  seen  nothing  like  it  in  all  Ireland.  "  Hear,  hear, 
my  good  fellows  !  Here's  a  lady  of  the  first  order 
speaking,  and  mark  what  she  says.  I  knew  when  she 
entered,  by  her  looks  and  language,  she  was  a  lady  of 
the  highest  order.     Now  mark  !" 

"Full  well  they  laughed,  and  counterfeited  glee." 

Hear,  hear  !  I  made  a  speech  somewhat  in  keeping 
with  the  place  and  persons,  and  had  I  never  before  felt 
my  own  greatness,  now  was  the  favorable  moment. 
A  long  and  low  bow,  ended  by  two  or  three  short  ones 
and  a  hearty  good-bye  on  my  part,  finished  the  morning 
comedy. 

My  journey  lay  through  a  wild  mountainous  country, 
and  the  red  petticoats  scattered  here  and  there  upon 
hill  and  lake  side  gave  a  romantic  touch  to  the  strange 
scenery  for  many  a  mile.  A  walk  of  six  miles  called 
for  rest  and  a  little  soap  for  my  blistered  feet,  and 
turning  into  a  cabin  upon  the  top  of  a  hill,  I  heard  read- 
ing as  I  entered  the  door.  The  woman  of  the  house 
was  sitting  with  an  infant  on  her  lap,  reading  to 
a  friend  who  had  entered,  and  I  soon  perceived 
she  had  a  cultivated  mind,  though  her  lot  was  cast  in 


388  CO.  OF  GALWAY.  [chap,  xxiii. 

that  desert.  She  was  a  Protestant,  and  said,  "  you 
have  no  idea  of  the  dreadful  condition  we  are  in  upon 
thes3  mountains.  No  school,  and  scarcely  a  book,  and 
seven  miles  from  any  church."  I  promised,  if  I  passed 
that  way  on  my  return,  to  spend  a  night  with  her,  and 
hring  her  some  books.  I  now  felt  the  want  of  my 
luggage.  An  old  man  and  his  daughter  entered 
with  each  a  heavy  burden,  which  they  tried  to  lighten 
at  every  cabin  upon  the  mountains.  They  were  dealers 
in  dry  goods.  "  I  hope,"  said  the  intelligent  woman, 
^'  you  will  keep  the  company  of  these  worthy  people 
across  the  mountain."  1  had  not  walked  far  when  a 
cough  behind  caused  me  to  turn  about,  and  the  girl 
said,  "Ye  are  quick  on  the  fut,  and  I  feared  we  should 
not  gain  upon  ye."  The  father  soon  joined  us,  and 
after  a  "  God  save  ye  kindly,  we're  all  travellers 
together,"  he  added,  "  I  rair'd  the  little  gal  yonder, 
and  a  blackguard  of  a  fellow  kept  his  eye  on  her  for  a 
twelvemonth,  till  by  her  consent  and  mine  he  married 
her,  stopped  with  her  one  month,  took  the  few  pounds 
she  had  gained  by  dailin',  and  went  away,  the  villain, 
and  set  up  the  business,  and  has  never  put  the  two  eyes 
on  her  sence." 

We  were  all  fatigued,  our  feet  blistered,  and  we  sat 
down  upon  a  bank  of  one  of  the  beautiful  lakes 
"which  are  dotting  this  wild  mountain-scenery  for  many 
a  mile.  Having  my  Testament  in  my  hand,  "ye  have 
a  nice  little  book,"  said  the  old  man.  "  Shall  1  read  a 
little  .^"  I  asked.  "  Plaise  God,  ye  will,"  was  the 
answer.  I  opened  at  the  14th  of  John,  and  read. 
"  Where,"  said  the  daughter,  "  did  you  get  that  beauti- 
ful book  .'"  "It  sounds,"  said  the  father,  "  like  our 
Catholic  raidin',  and  what  the  priest  has  told  us  from  the 
altar."  They  had  heard  portions  of  the  Scripture,  but 
did  not  know  that  this  was  the  Word  of  God  till  I  told 
them.  The  daughter  took  it  in  her  hand,  turned  over 
the  leaves,  read  a  few  portions  intelligibly,  and  asked, 
"  Where  could  I  get  one  ?  Would  you  sell  me  this  .''' 
I  promised  one  from  my  basket,  should  it  reach  Clif- 
den  while  she  was  there.      The  old  man  clasped   his 


CHAP,  xxiii.]  CO.  OF  GALWAY.  389 

hands,  raised  his  eyes,  blessed  the  good  God  that  he 
had  met  such  a  lady,  and  such  blessed  words  which 
"melt  the  heart."  It  was  a  pleasant  hour.  We  need- 
ed no  Cushioned  desk  nor  fringed  drapery,  to  adorn 
our  pulpit.  We  wanted  no  lighted  gas  to  enable  us  to 
read  our  prayers  from  gilt  edged  books.  The  chande- 
lier of  day  was  hanging  out  in  heaven's  high  dome, 
and  the  pure  waters  of  the  lake  were  sparkling  in  its 
"beams.  Our  temple  was  a  lofty  one,  and  as  we  sat  to- 
gether within  its  broad  portals,  we  read  the  sweet  and 
condescending  words,  "  Let  not  your  hearts  be  trou- 
bled." "In  my  father's  house  are  many  mansions.'' 
"  Yes,"  ejaculated  the  old  man,  "  blessed  be  his  holy 
name,  there  are  many  mansions."  I  then  felt  that  God 
was  truly  a  Spirit,  and  could  be  worshipped  on  the 
mountain  top  or  lowly  valley,  and  needed  no  temple 
made  with  hands. 

"  Must  we  go  .?"  I  asked,  as  the  book  was  closed, 
"  and  leave  this  heavenly  place  .^"  "  Plaise  God,  we 
must,"  the  old  man  answered.  Our  walk  was  ten  miles 
upon  the  top  of  a  mountain  spotted  with  lakes.  The 
old  man  became  fatigued,  and  they  stopped  as  the  sun 
was  setting,  at  a  miserable  looking  lodging-house  for 
the  night,  leaving  a  three  miles'  walk  for  me  alone, 
with  weary  feet,  before  I  could  find  "  a  dacent  house 
for  a  body  like  me."  The  daughter,  to  encourage  me, 
told  me  one  of  the  "  good  lies"  which  so  much  abound, 
that  it  was  "  but  a  short  mile  under  yer  fut."  Dark- 
ness soon  came  over  me,  and  no  smoke  of  a  cabin  cheer- 
ed my  eye.  I  sat  down  upon  a  little  hillock,  and  again 
looked  over  the  scenes  I  had  passed,  and  thanked  God 
that  I  was  in  Ireland,  and  that  I  had  met  the  old  man 
on  the  mountain,  and  hoped  he  would  rest  his  weary 
old  limbs,  thou2;h  I  mio-ht  not  find  a  shelter.  I  heard 
a  footstep,  and  as  it  approached,  inquired  if  the  lodg- 
ing-house of  the  mountain  was  near.  "  A  perch  or  two 
under  yer  fut,  and  ye  are  in  it."  I  went  on  ;  as  I 
reached  the  door  I  heard  laughing,  music,  and  danc- 
ing. It  was  a  barrack  ;  and  a  piper,  with  more 
whiskey   than   good  sense    in  his   brain,  was  blowing 


390  CO.  OF  GALWAY.  [chap.xxiii. 

■with  all  his  might  for  the  barefooted  girls  and  merry 
lads,  who  were  in  the  highest  glee.  "  Is  this  a  lodg- 
ing-house ?"  I  inquired.  "  Go  back,  and  you  will  find 
it."  I  stumbled  my  way  back  of  the  barxacks,  and 
opened  a  door,  and  a  tidy  looking  woman  received  me 
very  coldly  by  saying,  "  We  never  turn  people  out  of 
doors.  But  why  are  you  here  so  late  ?  Why  didn't 
you  stop  back  f  Are  you  travelling  alone.'"  By  this 
time  my  patience  was  departing,  and  I  answered,  "  Do 
you  keep  lodgers  :  and  can  you  keep  me  ?"  "  We 
never  turn  folks  out  of  doors."  "  I  do  not  suppose 
you  turn  people  out  of  doors,  if  you  put  out  a  sign  to 
ask  them  in."  The  master  heard  this,  stepped  into 
the  room,  and  quite  in  Irish  mood  bade  me  welcome, 
though  he  was  an  Englishman.  "  Sit  down,  and  make 
yourself  as  comfortable  as  you  can.  We  will  do  as 
well  as  we  can  for  you."  A  clean  bed  was  provided; 
two  others,  well  filled,  were  my  companions,  but  never 
was  rest  more  refreshing.  The  next  day  was  rainy, 
and  I  employed  my  time  reading,  writing,  and  listen- 
ing to  the  music  of  two  fiddlers,  who  told  me  they  were 
employed  by  gentlemen  to  amuse  them  at  their  houses. 
So  fond  are  the  Irish  of  music,  that,  in  some  form  or 
other,  they  must  and  will  have  it.  A  piper  entered 
on  a  wooden  leg,  and  called  for  a  glass  of  whiskey, 
which  the  daughter  gave  him,  and  feeling  a  little  jeal- 
ous lest  the  fiddlers  might  be  thought  more  than  rivals, 
he  gave  such  proofs  of  dexterity  as  put  all  to  silence. 
*' We  live  so  remote,"  said  the  man,  ''  that  these  little 
droppings  now  and  then  on  a  rainy  day  make  the  time 
pass  very  pleasantly.  In  fact,  I  don't  know  how  we 
should  get  along  without  them.  It's  nature,  you  see," 
holding  a  granddaughter  of  eight  months'  old  upon  the 
floor  to  see  her  dance.  *'  You  see,  ma'am,  they'll  dance 
before  they  can  walk." 

The  next  morning  the  inn-keeper  took  me  to  see  a 
marble  quarry  in  the  mountains,  which  he  had  explor- 
ed ;  the  rain  beat  us  cruelly,  but  we  proceeded.  The 
slabs  were  beautifully  variegated  with  green,  brown, 
and  black.     This  quarry  was  opened,  and  then  stopped, 


chapAxiii.]  CO.  OF  GALWAY.  391 

1 . 

the  owner  not  accepting  the  offer  of  seven  pounds  a 
ton  by  Government.  The  quarry  is  immense,  and  thou- 
sands of  men  might  find  employment  if  they  would  be 
allowed  to  work.  These  mountains  abound  in  the  rich- 
est minerals.  This  man  has  spent  much  time  in  ex- 
ploring and  analysing  their  properties,  and  has  found 
copper  and  some  other  ore.  Yet  rich  as  Ireland  is  in 
all  that  might  make  her  a  bright  gem  indeed  among  all 
the  nations,  her  Government  gives  her  arts  and  manu- 
factures but  little  encouragement. 

The  sun  looked  out  long  enough  for  me  to  put  all  in 
readiness  for  departure,  and  when  I  had  proceeded 
about  a  mile,  the  wind  increased  almost  to  a  tornado, 
and  the  rain  seemed  to  have  cleared  out  all  her  pipes, 
and  was  pouring  forth  torrents  fresh  and  clean.  I  was 
now  in  a  woeful  plight — my  parasol,  which  had  with- 
stood many  a  buffeting,  soon  turned  inside  out,  and 
became  a  wreck.  No  calDin  was  near  till  I  was  drenched. 
At  last  a  miserable  one  met  my  eye,  and  going  in,  I 
was  welcomed  by  two  young  women,  and  a  young  man, 
who  was  a  traveller  too,  and  inquired,  "  Where  did  ye 
come  from,  that  ye  are  out  in  this  stawrm.?"  Telling 
him,  and  that  it  was  fine  when  I  left,  he  said,  "  Aw, 
he's  a  blackguard  and  a  rascal  to  let  ye  from  his  door  to- 
day. He  knew  it  would  be  stawrmy,  an'  he's  a  honey 
tongue,  but  his  wife  is  a  sour  heifer  ;  and  wasn't  ye  a 
payin'  the  blackguard,  that  he  was  so  willin'  to  let  ye 
come  .^"  "  1  was  paying  them  full  price  for  all  I  had." 
"  They  are  divils  then,  and  the  divil  '11  have  'em,  and 
that's  the  end  on't."  I  heard  of  Connemara — that  it 
had  been  a  custom  from  time  immemorial,  that  if  a  stran- 
ger is  not  welcomed  into  a  cabin  at  night-fall,  or  leaves 
it  in  a  storm,  the  cabin-holder  is  immediately  called  up- 
on to  inquire  into  the  reason  ;  and  if  it  appears  that  it 
is  inhospitality,  that  family  is  set  up  as  a  mark  of  con- 
tempt to  its  neighbors. 

The  storm  was  increasing,  and  I  could  not  stop, 
for  the  mud  cabin  was  nearly  as  wet  as  the  road  ;  the 
poor  woman  said,  ^'  If  ye  could  stay,  ye  should  not  go 
out."     After  walking  a  few  yards,  the  wind  was  more 


392  CO.  OF  GAL  WAY.  [chap,  xxiii. 

violent  and  the  rain  heavier.  I  turned  my  back,  and 
strove  to  ascend  a  hill  in  that  way.  In  despair  I  stood  ; 
when  looking  to  my  left  I  saw  at  a  distance  a  cabin, 
and  a  little  girl  standing  at  the  door.  She  was  gazing 
at  me,  as  I  supposed,  from  idle  curiosity,  and,  as  the 
last  alternative,  I  hesitatingly  turned  towards  the  dreary 
abode.  "  Welcome,  welcome,  stranger,  from  the 
stawrm  ;  ye're  destroyed.  I  told  the  little  gal  to  open 
the  door  and  stand  in  it,  that  ye  mightn't  think  we 
was  shuttin'  ye  out  in  the  stawrm  ;  we've  got  a  good 
fire  and  plenty  of  turf;  and  though  the  cabin  is  small, 
and  not  fittin'  for  sich  a  lady  as  ye,  I'll  make  it  better 
than  the  mad  stawrm  without ;  and  I'll  soon  heave  over 
a  pot  of  potatoes,  and  get  ye  a  sup  of  milk,  and  I  wish 
my  wife  was  here.  I'm  but  a  stranger  ;  but  here  sence 
Monday."  All  this  passed  before  I  had  time  to  tell 
my  country,  pedigree,  or  business  to  Ireland.  But  when 
he  heard  all  that,  he  was  more  anxious  still  to  heap 
me  with  kindness.  A  huge  pile  of  blazing  turf  soon 
dried  my  clothes,  and  I  was  sitting  "  high  and  dry"  by 
the  side  of  the  heels  of  a  stage  horse,  who  was  taking 
his  lunch  from  a  pile  of  straw  at  the  foot  of  a  bed.  In 
an  hour  the  potatoes  were  ready,  and  the  kind  little 
gii'i  brought  me  a  broken  soup-plate  with  two  eggs  on 
it,  and  a  "sup  of  milk."  The  eggs  I  gave  to  a  coach- 
man who  had  dropped  in  to  exchange  horses,  and  took 
some  salt  and  my  tea-spoon,  which  I  carried  in  my 
pocket  ;  and  upon  a  stool  by  the  side  of  a  pot,  on 
which  a  basket  was  placed  containing  the  lumpers,  I 
ate  my  supper  with  the  family  and  coachman,  not  only 
with  a  cheerful,  but  a  grateful  heart. 

Night  came,  but  what  was  to  be  my  lodging  ?  The 
bed  in  the  room  was  nothing  but  a  pile  of  straw,  with 
a  dirty  blanket  and  heavy  woollen  quilt  over  it ;  but 
the  horse,  to  my  great  delight,  was  removed  by  the 
coachman,  leaving  two  good  bundles  of  clean  straw 
untouched.  The  father  went  out ;  a  little  son  fell 
asleep,  and  I  persuaded  him  to  go  to  bed,  the  girl 
saying,  "  He  musn't  lie  there  ;  father  told  us  that  we 
are  to  sit  by  the  fire,  and  ye  are  to  lie  in  the  bed."     I 


CHAP,  xxiii.]  CO.  OF  GALWAY.  305 

refused,  telling  her  I  should  not  do  it ;  but  when  the 
father  came  in,  he  told  the  son  in  anger,  ^'  he'd  break 
every  bone  in  his  body  if  he  didn't  go  out  of  that."  I 
at  last  prevailed  on  the  father  to  allow  him  to  remain, 
and  told  him  I  had  an  excellent  bed  in  my  eye.  "  An' 
sure  it  isn't  the  bundle  of  straw  ;  not  a  ha'porth  of  yer 
wet  and  wairy  bones  shall  lie  there  to-night."  I  in- 
sisted that  I  greatly  preferred  it  as  a  luxury,  and  finally 
took  one  bundle,  removed  the  band,  made  a  little  open- 
ing, and  placing  it  before  the  fire,  put  a  second  one  at 
the  bottom  of  the  door,  as  the  breach  was  large  and  the 
wind  piercing ;  and  then  with  some  loose  handfuls 
stopped  the  crevices  above  and  around,  till  all  was  quite 
snug.  Then  wrapping  my  coat  closely  about  me,  I  lay 
down  in  as  comfortable  a  nest,  and  slept  as  sweetly  as 
I  ever  had  in  America  or  Ireland. 

The  fire  died  upon  the  hearth,  and  the  cold  awakened 
me.  The  day  was  the  Sabbath  ;  the  storm  had  not 
in  the  least  abated.  I  had  my  Testament,  and  spent 
the  morning  reading  the  crucifixion  and  resurrection  of 
the  Saviour  to  the  family.  The  father  assured  me 
that  "  he  had  never  heard  a  ha'porth  of  it  read 
before  ;  we  are  as  ignorant,  good  lady,  as  the  goats 
upon  the  mountain.  God  help  us!"  A  woman  en- 
tered with  a  red  petticoat  turned  over  her  head,  and 
the  man  told  her  in  Irish  who  I  was,  and  that  I  had 
come  to  see  the  poor.  She  reached  her  hand,  and  said 
in  Irish,  "  Then  she  is  my  sister."  The  little  girl  ex- 
plained, "  She  is  a  very  religious  body,  and  means  you 
are  her  sister  if  you  are  religious."  She  was  a  moun- 
tain Connemara  girl,  but  not  a  fac-simile  of  the  one  I 
met  in  Oranmore.  She  gave  me  a  hearty  shake  of  the 
hand  as  she  went  out,  telling  the  man  she  must  come 
and  see  me  again.  The  man  said,  "If  ye  could  spake 
in  Irish,  ye  could  do  good  to  these  craturs,  for  they  are 
as  stupid  as  the  marble-stone."  One  told  me  that  they 
wore  red  petticoats  to  keep  off"  the  fairies  ;  "  and  this," 
he  added,  "  they  fully  believe."  While  he  was  de- 
ploring their  ignorance,  his  little  son  told  him  he  had 
17* 


CO.  OF  GAL  WAY.  [chap,  xxiii. 


dreamed  a  bad  dream.  ''  Bless  yourself,  then,  nine 
times,  in  the  name  of  the  Father,  Son,  and  Holy 
Ghost,  when  ye  are  goin'  to  sleep,  and  ye  won't  drame 
at  all."  "Do  you  believe  this  .^"  I  asked.  "I  do, 
ma'am  ;  the  priest  told  me  so,  and  the  priest  must 
know."  "  The  priest,  sir,  insulted  you  if  he  told  you 
so  ;  it  is  all  nonsense,  and  you  should  not  listen  to  it." 
He  shook  his  head  at  my  incredulity,  but  said  no 
more. 

The  rain  ceased,  and  I  must  go  to  the  next  lodging- 
house,  about  two  miles.  Asking  the  man  if  he  could 
change  half-a-crown,  "  For  what  ?"  as  I  hesitated,  "  I 
will  not  change  a  half-crown,  nor  a  shilling,  nor  a  six- 
pence ;  nor  a  ha'porth  shall  the  childer  take,  for  that 
blackguard  bed  ye  laid  yer  wairy  bones  upon.  If  I 
had  a  half-crown,  I  would  give  it  to  let  ye  ride  to  Clif- 
den."  This  was  true  Connemara  hospitality,  and  I 
went  out  without  leaving  a  farthing,  where  I  had  had 
value  received,  and  should  have  felt  it  a  great  privilege 
to  give  them  a  little. 

I  reached  the  lodging-house,  and  saw  the  good 
woman  and  all  about  her  in  unusual  trim  for  the 
people  in  that  mountain,  and  felt  much  cheered  at  so 
neat  and  comfortable  a  looking  place.  "  But  we  cannot 
entertain  ye,  because  a  daughter  is  to  be  married  this 
evening."  I  then  was  more  anxious  to  stop,  for  among 
all  the  varieties  I  had  seen,  I  never  had  been  present 
at  an  Irish  wedding.  I  went  to  a  second,  was  denied ; 
to  a  third,  the  answer  here  was,  "  She  could  not 
accommodate  so  dacent  a  body."  Decent  or  not  de- 
cent, I  told  her  I  must  stay.  The  rain  was  beginning, 
and  I  could  not  reach  Clifden  that  night,  neither  was 
I  willing  to  be  out  so  long  on  the  Sabbath.  At  last 
she  consented,  and  gave  me  a  good  fire,  a  piece  of 
bread,  and  a  plate  of  well  cooked  potatoes,  which  are 
always  given  without  charge  in  every  lodging-house 
where  I  stopped.  The  room  where  I  lodged  had 
potatoes  cut  for  planting,  which  was  the  creditable 
reason  why  a  "  dacent  body"  should  not  be  put  in  it. 


«HAP.  XXIV.]  CO.  OP  GALWAY.  395 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 


Clifden— Clifden  Castle— Irish  Holidays— Walk  to  Round-stone— Hardships  of 
Irish  Tenants— Three  Guides  pointing  three  different  ways— Potatoes  a  Curse 
upon  Ireland— A  Rough  and  Weary  road— Absence  of  Trees— An  aged  Pil- 
grim—Good Wishes— A  Timely  Supplj'— Judicious  Advice— A  Kind  Curate— 
A  Connemara  School— Ascent  of  the  Diamond  Mountain,  and  Adventure  by 
the  Way— Tully— No  Bread  to  be  had  in  the  Town— The  Isle  of  Oma,  and  the 
Natives  thereof— Change  for  the  better  in  Connemara— Return  to  Clifden. 


Monday  morning,  walked  in  the  rain  to  Clifden.  Was 
directed  to  a  lodging  place,  and  found  an  intelligent 
Protestant  woman,  who  immediately  brought  me  tea  and 
toast,  as  she  saw  me  wet  and  fatigued.  The  romantic 
town  of  Clifden  presented  a  novel  appearance,  built  as 
it  is  upon  a  hill  in  part.  The  picturesque  church 
stands  on  an  eminence,  looking  trim  and  independent 
above  its  neighbors. 

Visited  the  Protestant  school,  taught  by  a  male  and 
female  teacher.  The  children  are  mostly  Roman 
Catholics,  and  are  partly  clothed  by  the  society,  and 
are  advanced  to  grammar  and  geography.  Next  I 
went  to  the  national  school,  a  great  building  gone  to 
decay,  the  school  kept  by  a  widow  for  the  paltry  com- 
pensation of  ten  pounds  a  year.  The  boys  had  all 
withdrawn,  and  no  interest  whatever  was  taken  in  the 
school.  Bishop  M'Hale  had  prohibited  the  reading  of 
those  portions  of  Scripture  appertaining  to  the  lessons  ; 
and  the  teacher,  though  a  Catholic,  talked  seriously  of 
leaving  the  school  on  account  of  it.  She  is  an  intelli- 
gent woman,  and  at  the  time  of  her  marriage  had 
possessed  a  property  of  twelve  thousand  pounds, 
which  her  good  husband  had  the  art  of  spending  in  a 
few  years.  He  is  now  dead,  and  she  sits  in  a  dilapidat- 
ed school-room  fifty-two  weeks  every  year  for   a  salary 


396  CO.  OF  GALWAY.  [chap.  xxiv. 

of  ten  pounds.  I  left  the  school,  and  ascended  a  diffi- 
cult mountain  to  take  a  full  survey  of  the  town.  It  was 
a  most  picturesque  view.  Mountains  of  rocks  on  every 
hand,  and  the  sea  behind  a  little  declivity  ;  the  scat- 
tered buildings  here  and  there  among  the  wildness  of 
the  rocks  about  the  village,  make  one  feel  transported 
back  to  days  of  chivalry,  when  all  the  superstitious 
leo-ends  were  in  full  vogue,  when  fairies  were  plying 
their  skill,  and  knights  and  chieftains  were  the  men  of 
renown. 

April  30th. — I  walked  forth  after  a  shower,  scarcely 
knowing  or  caring  whither.  I  followed  a  neat  roman- 
tic path  till  a  splendid  stone  gateway  met  my  eye,  and, 
quite  contrary  to  monarchical  etiquette,  the  entrance 
was  open  and  free.  I  received  a  hearty  welcome  from 
the  good-natured  keeper  of  the  lodge,  and  an  invitation 
to  walk  in  and  take  a  cup  potatoe,  "  the  best  in  all  the 
world,"  she  said.  "  Ye  are  welcome  to  go  all  over  the 
grounds,  no  walls  or  gates  preventing.  And  if  the 
owner  was  at  home,  he  would  take  ye  through  the 
castle."  Her  husband  led  me  to  the  path,  and  left  me 
to  wander  in  the  pleasure  grounds  where  I  pleased.  A 
romantic  pile  of  moss-covered  rocks  was  the  first  object 
of  curiosity.  The  roof  was  broken  through,  and 
water  trickled  from  the  rocks  down  to  a  channel  under 
the  stone-floor,  which  bears  it  silently  away  under 
ground.  Recesses  in  the  interior  made  this  structure 
a  still  greater  wonder,  and  seeing  two  laboring  men,  I 
inquired  what  it  could  be.  "  A  grotto,  ma'am.  An' 
ye're  a  stranger  from  England,  I  s'pose."  '^  No,  sir, 
from  America."  "  From  America  !  America  !  wel- 
come, thrice  welcome.  An'  I  see  ye  have  the  green 
badge  of  Ireland,"  alluding  to  my  green  coat,  "  and  do 
ye  know  the  shamrock?"  picking  a  sprig  and  handing 
it  to  me  ;  "  Y^e  are  Ireland's  friend,  I  know,  and  do  ye 
think  we  shall  ever  get  any  good  ?  America  is  doin' 
much  for  us,  an'  we'll  never  fight  for  England."  The 
chief  speaker  was  white-headed,  yet  he  expected  to 
live  to    see  Ireland   have   her  rights.       A.s   they  said, 


CHAP.  XXIV.]  CO.  OF  GALWAY.  397 

**  God  speed  ye,"  I  looked  after  these  old  men,  and 
surely,  I  thought,  it  is  true — 

"  Hope  springs  eternal  in  the  human  breast, 
Ireland  '  never  is,  but  always  to  be  blest.'  ^ 

Following  the  winding  path,  I  soon  found  the  castle, 
proud  in  height  and  architecture,  embosomed  in  wood, 
without  gate  or  wall.  After  surveying  it  on  every  side, 
I  was  more  satisfied  with  its  plan  than  any  I  had  seen  ; 
for  while  it  looked  up  in  independent  grandeur,  it  seem- 
ed to  look  down  with  a  bland  smile,  and  say  to  the  hum- 
blest visitor,  "  I  hope  you  are  pleased."  Going  on 
through  the  wood,  I  entered  a  garden  such  as  few  do- 
mains could  boast ;  tastefully  laid  out  on  mountain 
side  and  valley,  without  any  enclosure,  and  gradually 
losing  itself  in  woods  among  rivulets  and  cascades. 
The  apple  and  lilac  were  in  bloom,  in  the  midst  of 
these  varied  delights.  Now  appeared  a  fairy  castle, 
a  house  with  variegated  pillars  and  open  door,  made  of 
shells  of  the  most  delicate  shades,  arranged  in  stars 
and  circles  of  beautiful  workmanship.  These  showed 
exquisite  taste  in  the  designer,  and  must  have  been 
done  with  great  cost  and  care.  I  found  that  a  laboring 
peasant  was  the  architect  of  this  wonderful  fabric,  but 
he  was  kept  most  religiously  in  his  rank,  laboring  for 
eight  pence  a  day. 

Not  a  spot  in  all  Ireland  had  been  to  my  liking  so 
much  as  this,  because  it  breathed  such  a  republican  air 
of  liberty.  Not  a  placard  said,  "  No  trespass  ;"  no 
surly  porter  followed  to  say,  "  My  master  allows  no  one 
about  the  place  without  a  written  pass."  But  here  the 
visitor  may  sit,  stand,  or  stroll,  fanned  by  the  breezes  of 
summer  with  the  sweet  scent  of  every  flower,  and  feel 
that  all  was  made  for  his  enjoyment.  Leaving  the  en- 
chantment, I  went  to  the  rocky  shore  (for  the  ocean 
is  dashing  its  waves  in  front  of  these  delights),  gathered 
a  few  shells,  and  returned  by  the  sea-side,  passing  a 
monastery  of  monks  where  eighty  boys  are  instructed, 
and  where  five  monks  now  reside.  Its  style  and  com- 
fort are  not  like  Mount  Mellary. 


398  CO.  OF  GAL  WAY.  [chap.  xxiv. 

Thursday^  May  day. — Here  the  ancient  custom  of 
dressing  poles  with  flowers,  and  placing  them  before  the 
doors  of  the  rich,  is  kept  up.  Horses  and  carriages  are 
ornamented  with  them,  and  the  children  of  the  peas- 
antry ca^  at  the  doors  of  the  gentry  to  receive  pre- 
sents.* The  holidays  of  the  Irish  peasantry  present  to 
the  stranger  the  character  and  condition  of  this  people 
in  the  broadest  outlines.  You  see  how  the  liberty, 
which  on  such  an  occasion  is  allowed  the  greatest  lati- 
tude that  it  ever  can  take,  is  chastened  by  a  cringing 
servility,  which  says,  "  I  am  your  humble  slave."  You 
see  the  effort  at  tidiness  and  show,  which  give  you  the 
extent  of  the  scanty  wardrobe  acquired  by  the  ill-paid 
labor  of  the  master.  Y"ou  see  the  quick  perception  of 
generosity  and  meanness,  as  the  gift  is  put  into  the 
scale  with  the  donor's  wealth  and  station.  You  see  the 
full  mark  of  enjoyment  which  the  Irish  heart  is  capable 
of  reaching  above  all  others,  both  in  sunshine  and 
storm  ;  and  you  see  that  God  has  stamped  his  image  as 
legibly,  as  nobly,  yes,  as  invitingly,  on  the  peasant  as 
on  the  lord. 

I  determined,  if  possible,  to  see  Roundstone  that 
day,  a  walk  of  ten  miles.  Walked  a  few  miles,  when  a 
little  boy  of  ten  years  old  came  up  with  a  staff,  and 
was  a  pleasant  companion,  telling  me  many  wonders 
of  the  wild  barren  country.  Passing  a  pile  of  stones, 
he  paused,  and  I  walked  on  a  few  paces ;  he  seemed 
fixed  to  the  spot.  I  said,  ^'  it  is  a  wild  place,  boy." 
"  A  dreadful  place  it  has-been,  ma'am,  for  robbers. 
There  is  one  buried  under  that  pile  of  stones  there, 
who  lived  about  here,  and  stayed  on  that  island  in  the 
lake  you  see  back  there  ;  it  was  long  they  watched 
him,  and  at  last  one  night  they  killed  him,  and  put 
him  under  that  pile  of  stones."  I  inquired  after 
reaching  the  town,  and  was  told  that  the  story  was 
true ;    that    before    Father   Mathew  had   been   there, 

*  I  was  told  at  GlengarifF  that  the  old  lord  famishes  his  pocket 
with  shillings  to  meet  the  little  girls  at  the  door  at  May  morning, 
who  first  present  him  with  an  e^g^  a  shamrock,  or  a  bunch  of  wild 
flowers. 


CHAP.  XXIV.]  CO.  OF  GALWAY.  399 


Connemara  was  infested  by  robbers.  I  asked  tbe  boy 
to  read  ;  lie  did  so  intelligibly,  and  answered  every 
question  from  the  second  of  Matthew,  respecting  the 
birth  of  the  Saviour,  correctly.  "  And  what,"  I  asked, 
*'  is  to  become  of  this  world  .?"  ^'  The  great  Judge  will 
come  and  burn  it  up,"  was  the  answer.  He  was  ready 
in  the  Scriptures,  though  he  had  been  trained  in  the  Ca- 
tholic church. 

Two  miles  from  the  town  a  decently  clad  farmer  ac- 
costed me.  He  had  been  to  attend  a  lawsuit,  a  case  of 
ejectment.  "  I  have  worked,"  he  said,  ''  on  a  farm 
since  a  boy  ;  my  father  died,  and  left  it  to  me,  three 
years  ago.  I  had  made  a  comfortable  house  for  myself 
and  family,  and  been  preparing  manure  all  winter  to 
put  in  a  greater  crop  of  potatoes  and  corn.  The 
agent  came  round,  saw  the  improvements,  and  told  me 
I  should  not  sow  any  seed,  but  must  quit  the  premises." 
And  he  was  actually  ejected,  notwithstanding  the  en- 
couragement he  had  had  from  the  landlord  to  make  the 
improvements.  From  twenty  to  twenty-four  shillings  an 
acre  were  tenants  giving  on  this  rocky  spot,  which  in 
many  places  could  not  be  ploughed.  "  I  must  take  my 
little  all,"  added  the  man,  "  and  leave  my  fathers' 
bones,  and  seek  a  home  in  America."  Hard  is  the  lot 
of  the  poor  man  in  Ireland.  If  he  is  industrious,  his 
industry  will  not  secure  him  a  home  and  its  comforts ; 
these  he  must  lose  so  soon  as  this  home  is  above  the 
abode  of  the  ox  or  the  ass. 

"  Why  don't  you,"  said  I  to  a  widow  who  had  an  acre 
of  ground,  "  make  things  about  your  cabin  look  a  lit- 
tle more  tidy }  You  have  a  pretty  patch  of  land,  well 
kept,  and  might  look  very  comfortable."  ''  But,  lady, 
I  have  but  one  little  slip  of  a  boy  of  fifteen  years  of 
age,  and  he  toils  the  long  day  to  rair  a  bit  of  vegetable 
to  carry  to  market,  and  he  helped  me  to  put  up  this 
little  cabin,  and  if  I  make  it  look  nice  outside,  the 
agent  will  put  a  pound  more  rent  on  me,  or  turn  me 
out  and  my  little  things  ;  and  I  couldn't  pay  the  pound." 
These  are  facts  all  over  Ireland.  If  the  poor  tenant 
improves  the  premises,  he  must  be  turned  out  or  pay 


400  CO.  OF  GALWAY.  [chap.  xxiv. 

more.  If  he  do  not  improve  it,  lie  is  a  lazy  dirty 
Irishman,  and  must  be  put  out  for  that.  I  reached 
Koundstone,  and  was  kindly  received  by  a  Christian 
Protestant  woman  who  had  invited  me  there  before  in 
Clifden.  Met  an  intelligent  police-officer  and  his 
sister ;  and  in  the  morning  visited  the  school,  taught 
by  a  Roman  Catholic,  and  supported  by  the  Home 
Mission.  It  is-  in  its  infancy,  its  funds  low,  and  the 
children  supplied  themselves  with  what  books  they  had, 
which  were  few  and  defaced.  I  sat  in  the  school-room 
till  eleven,  waiting  for  the  scholars  to  assemble,  and 
with  much  urging  succeeded  in  hearing  two  girls  at- 
tempt to  read.  The  teacher  is  a  learned  man,  but  the 
appearance  of  his  person  told  that  a  schoolmaster's 
salary  in  Ireland  is  a  poor  inducement  to  plod  through 
the  declensions  and  conjugations  of  a  Latin  grammar. 
The  whole  together  was  not  attractive.  The  Testa- 
ment is  kept  in  school,  and  the  teacher  observed,  "  It  is 
read  by  all  who  wish  to  read  it,  and  the  others  omit 
it." 

Mr.  Crotty,  the  Presbyterian  clergyman  who  em- 
ploys the  teacher,  says  he  can  do  no  better  in  the  pre- 
sent state  of  things.  Poverty  sits  brooding  on  every- 
thing here.  A  Church  of  England  curate,  a  Presbyte- 
rian clergyman,  and  Romish  priest  divide  the  town 
among  them,  leaving  a  scanty  pittance  to  each  of  the 
laborers.  Mr.  Crotty  was  once  a  Romish  priest,  and  is 
now  a  thorough  adherent  to  those  principles  he  once 
denied.  He  certainly  has  done  honor  to  the  change  he 
has  made,  if  the  voices  of  his  neighbors  weigh  anything  ; 
for  the  Catholics  all  spoke  kindly  of  him  as  a  peace- 
maker, wishing  to  do  good  to  all,  and  "  given  to  hospi- 
tality." 

Roundstone,  which  might  as  well  be  called  All- 
stone,  stands  upon  a  pleasant  bay,  and  has  a  strand 
about  tw^  miles  distant,  of  two  miles  in  length,  and  in 
some  places  of  nearly  half  a  mile  in  width,  of  the 
finest  white  sand,  and  the  most  beautiful  shells  in  the 
whole  island.  Here  I  spent  some  hours  alone,  amid 
the  drifting  of  the  sand,  gathering  shells,  and  endan- 


CHAP.  XXIV.]  CO.  OF  GAL  WAY.  401 

gering  my  eyes  ;  almost  threatened  with  a  burial  in 
the  vast  heaps  that  are  piled  nearly  mountain  high  ; 
my  feet  sinking  deeply  at  every  step.  An  ancient 
burying  ground  is  back  of  the  strand,  and  many  of 
the  dead  bodies  have  been  washed  out,  and  have  been 
found  among  the  sand.  The  poor  peasants,  men, 
women,  and  children,  were  gathering  sea-weed,  load- 
ing their  horses,  asses,  and  backs  with  it,  to  manure 
the  wretched  little  patches  of  potatoes  sown  among 
the  rocks.  They  walked  home  with  me  to  town,  some 
of  them  with  loads  upon  their  backs  which  to  me  looked 
frightful.  "  This,"  said  a  fair  3''0ung  girl,  who  had 
rested  her  basket  a  moment  upon  the  wall,  "  this  is 
what  the  good  God  puts  on  us  many  a  long  day,  and 
we  mustn't  complain."  I  must  acknowledge  I  cannot 
comprehend  how  such  unnecessary,  unheard-of,  degrad- 
ing suflfering  can  be  made  to  sit  on  young  hearts  like 
this  so  uncomplainingly.  Working  a  whole  life  for  a 
potatoe  !  yes,  a  potatoe  !  "  We  have  them  for  a 
rarity,"  said  a  young  Irishman  as  he  rose  from  his  sup- 
per, "  we  have  the  lumpers  three  hundred  and  sixty-five 
days  in  a  year."  "  A  great  blessing,"  I  answered. 
*'  The  greatest  curse  that  ever  was  sent  on  Ireland  ; 
and  I  never  sit  down,  see,  use,  or  eat  one,  but  I  wish 
every  divil  of  'em  was  out  of  the  island.  The  black- 
guard of  a  Raleigh  who  brought  'em  here,  entailed  a 
curse  upon  the  laborer  that  has  broke  his  heart.  Be- 
cause the  landholder  sees  we  can  live  and  work  hard 
on  'em,  he  grinds  us  down  in  our  wages,  and  then  de- 
spises us  because  we  are  ignorant  and  ragged." 

This  is  a  pithy  truth,  one  which  I  had  never  seen  in 
so  vivid  a  light  as  now. 

Saturday. — I  left  the  kind  Mrs.  IMoran,  where  I  had 
stopped,  and  directed  my  footsteps  to  Clifden.  .  The 
police  officers,  at  my  egress,  detained  me  some  time  at 
the  door  of  the  barracks,  with  multiplied  inquiries 
about  America,  and  kind  wishes  for  myself.  >  As  I 
proceeded,  the  wind  became  so  strong  in  my  face  that 
walking  was  almost  impossible.  I  was  soon  joined  by 
a  woman  going  to   Clifden  with  a  heavy  burden  on  her 


402  CO.  OP  GAL  WAY.  [chap.  xxiv. 

back.  ^'  And  why  did  ye  lave  Roundstone  ?  The  peo- 
ple were  all  waitia'  to  see  ye  on  Sunday,  and  the  hotel 
keeper's  wife  was  to  keep  ye  a  few  days,  for  she  has 
been  in  America,  and  she'd  like  to  discoorse  ye,  and  she 
knew  ye'd  no  good  place  to  lodge."  With  her  heavy 
burden  she  was  soon  out  of  sight,  for  she  must  be  in  Clif- 
den  for  market.  I  sat  down  ;  the  gusts  were  so  violent 
in  my  face,  that  I  could  scarcely  make  my  way.  A  man 
with  a  loaded  team  met  me,  and  said,  "  Ye  cannot  walk 
with  this  storm'  in  yer  face  ;  go  into  the  Half-way 
house,  and  wait  till  I  come  back,  and  I  will  give  ye  a 
ride  into  Clifden."  He  had  j&ve  miles  to  go  and  unload 
his  team,  and  five  miles  more  to  return  to  the  spot. 
I  went  into  the  Half-way  house,  but  was  glad  to  get 
again  upon  the  street,  and  buffet  the  storm.  I  had 
travelled  fifty  miles  in  this  part  of  the  country,  and 
never  seen  a  tree  or  shrub,  unless  what  was  planted  by 
the  hand  of  man  as  an  ornament,  and  this  only  once. 
Yet  we  are  told  that  all  these  mountains  and  valleys 
were  once  covered  with  trees ;  that  the  bog-oak  found 
so  far  beneath  the  surface  is  one  proof,  and  the  turf 
another. 

I  soon  saw  an  old  man  leaning  upon  a  staff  ap- 
proaching, as  I  supposed,  to  beg.  "  An'  ye're  an 
American,  an'  I've  been  hurryin'  home  to  see  ye  ;  an' 
ye're  alone,  and  a  stranger,  and  my  heart  wawrms 
towards  the  stranger.  I've  a  daughter  in  America, 
an'  I  didn't  hear  from  her  these  three  years,  an'  I'd  go 
there  to-morrow  if  I  had  the  manes,  if  I  knew  I  should 
die  in  a  week.  This  is  a  dreadful  place,  ma'am.  They 
are  all  haythens.  They  buried  a  parish  priest,  and 
dragged  him  off  in  a  common  cart ;  they  did  indeed, 
ma'am  ;  and  I  beg  ye  to  be  out  of  this  mountain, 
ma'am,  as  soon  as  ye  can."  The  old  man's  eloquence 
increased  as  he  proceeded.  *'  I'm  from  Kilkenny,  and 
the  people  there  are  civilized.  Oh,  must  my  ould  bones 
be  buried  here  !"  I  had  the  Testament  open  in  my 
hand,  and  went  to  a  wall,  and  sat  down.  He  tottered 
towards  me,  and  I  said,  "  If  you  will  stop,  I  will  read 
some  of  Christ's  words  to  you.     You  are  old,  and  if 


CHAP.  XXIV.]  CO.  OP  GALWAY.  403 

you  love  Christ,  you  will  soon  be  where  he  is."  "Ah, 
I  am  a  sinner,  lady,  a  great  sinner,  an  ould  sinner.  But 
do  ye  tell  me  ye  arn't  lonely  on  these  wild  mountains  ?" 
"  1  am  not  alone  ;  Christ  is  with  me,  and  I  hear  him 
say,  '  Let  not  your  heart  be  troubled."  "  And  d'ye 
say  that  Christ  is  with  ye  !  Oh,  if  I  could  say  that ! 
Oh,  if  my  owld  heart  could  feel  that!"  I  read  the 
14th  of  John  in  his  wondering  ears,  while  he,  at  every 
sentence  which  struck  him,  would  lift  his  withered 
hands,  exclaiming,  "  And  is  this  Jesus  .^  'Did  he  say 
this  to  sinners  r"  I  read,  and  talked,  and  read  again. 
The  winds  had  hushed,  and  the  sun  shone  out,  and 
told  me  I  must  hasten  ;  I  looked  in  the  old  man^s  face, 
the  tear  was  trembling  in  his  dim  eye  ;  1  turned  away. 
"  I  have  kept  ye  too  long,  ma'am  ;  pardon  me,  but  my 
heart  wawrms  towards  the  stranger."  He  tottered 
away,  and  I  heard  him  praying  the  good  God  to  bless 
the  lone  stranger.  Never  can  I  forget  that  old  man  of 
the  mountain. 

Within  two  miles  of  Clifden  I  entered  a  miserable 
hut,  and  found  a  company  of  women  sitting  on  the 
floor.  The  woman  of  the  cabin  said,  "  Are  ye  a 
widow  .^"  Answering  in  the  affirmative,  "  An'  I'm  the 
same,  and  but  one  cratur  in  the  world  that  belongs 
to  me,  and  she's  dark,  ma'am.  I  put  her  in  bed  a 
sound  child,  an'  she  was  dark  in  the  mornin'.  She's 
gone  to  the  next  town.  She  fiddles,  but  her  fiddle  is 
poor,  and  I  can't  reach  money  to  buy  her  a  new  one." 
I  went  out,  she  followed,  pitying  and  wishing  she 
could  do  something  for  me.  Looking  me  earnestly  in 
the  face,  "  Would  ye  know  me,  ma'am,  if  ye  should  see 
me  again  ?  I  shall  want  to  see  ye,  and  know  how  ye 
do."  She  turned  away,  then  called  again,  "  God  speed 
ye,  and  give  ye  long  life,  and  may  I  see  ye  again." 
Hoping  to  hear  no  more  tales  of  sorrow  till  I  should 
reach  Clifden,  I  hurried  on,  but  was  soon  accosted  by 
"  God  save  ye  kindly,  and  have  ye  travelled  much 
since  I  met  ye  .^"  I  looked  up,  and  recognised  the  old 
man  with  his  pack,  to  whom  I  read  the  Scriptures  on 
the  banks  of  the  lake.      I  recollected  mj  promise  to 


404  CO.  OF  GAL  WAY.  [chap.  xxiv. 

give  him  some  books,  but  had  none  with  me,  and  could 
only  say  again,  "  Be  ye  warmed  and  be  ye  filled."  He 
bade  all  manner  of  good  wishes,  and  hoped  I  should 
meet  his  daughter  in  town. 

I  hastened  to  the  post-office  with  anxiety,  and  found 
a  letter  enclosing  two  pounds  ten,  with  a  bundle 
of  Bibles  and  tracts  from  the  same  kind  clergyman 
who  had  been  the  instrument,  at  my  first  setting  out, 
of  getting  the  Bibles  from  the  Hibernian  Society.  I 
wept  tears  of  gratitude,  that  I,  a  stranger  in  a  strange 
land,  should  bo  so  carefully  remembered,  I  went  to 
the  coach-office,  for  though  the  carriage  was  paid 
in  Dublin,  yet  eighteen  pence  more  was  demanded,  or 
the  books  could  not  be  given.  This  was  another  trick 
played  up.on  me  by  Bianconi's  agents;  I  paid  it, 
resolving  never  to  have  any  more  to  do  with  his  agents 
or  cars.  I  have  observed  throughout  Ireland  two 
classes  of  men  with  a  superabundant  capital  of  in- 
solence— post-masters,  and  the  agents  of  coaches  and 
canal-boats.  Civility  seems  to  be  lost  on  them,  more 
than  on  any  others  I  met  in  the  country.  This  I  at- 
tributed to  two  causes  ;  the  hurry  and  perplexity  of 
their  business,  and  the  pride  of  being  so  exalted  above 
the  spade,  in  a  country  where  stations  above  the  pea- 
sant's lot  are  so  enviable. 

I  was  now  almost  happy.  I  had  the  prospect  of 
doing  a  little  good,  where  so  much  good  was  needed. 
The  daughter  of  the  old  man  I  met  upon  the  lakes 
called,  and  modestly  reminded  me  of  the  promise  to 
give  her  the  Word  of  God.  She  had  not  forgotten 
what  we  read  together,  and  said  she  had  thought  much 
of  it  since.  I  gave  her  one,  offering  her  some  tracts, 
but  she,  too,  wanted  nothing  but  the  Word  of  God.  A 
young  Roman  Catholic  lady  was  lodging  in  the  house, 
and  she  possessed  good  sense  and  a  tolerable  educa- 
tion. She  examined  the  bundle  of  tracts,  and  found 
some  on  controversial  subjects.  She  begged  me  not  to 
offer  these.  "  You  have,"  said  she,  "  done  good  here, 
by  showing  to  the  people  that  you  did  not  come 
to   quarrel   with    them    about    their   religion,    but   to 


CHAP.  XXIV.]  CO.  OF  GALWAY.  405 

do  them  good,  by  giving  such  books  as  they  might 
read  ;  but  if  you  circulate  these,  it  will  be  said  you  are 
like  all  others,  and  the  good  you  have  done  will  be  lost." 
This  was  sterling  advice,  and  I  followed  it.  She  took 
a  Testament,  and  it  was  her  constant  companion.  I 
have  found  her  reading  in  bed,  and  by  the  way-side. 

Sabbath. — Went  into  the  Sabbath-school,  and  found 
the  old  curate  and  his  young  wife,  with  each  a  scholar 
teaching.  He  gave  us  a  cool  rational  sermon.  This  cu- 
rate and  his  wife  were  very  kind  ;  and  the  little  atten- 
tions they  showed  me  left  pleasant  mementoes  on  my 
mind.  They  invited  me  to  tea,  and  asked  me  to  play 
on  the  piano  ;  they  afterwards  left  the  town,  not  expect- 
ing to  return  till  I  should  be  gone,  and  sent  me  the  key 
of  the  piano,  as  1  must,  they  said,  be  lonely,  and  I 
might  have  access  to  it  at  any  hour  in  the  day.*  A 
Bible-reader  was  sick  in  the  house  where  1  lodged,  and 
very  poor  ;  but  rich  in  faith.  He  had  labored  long  and 
faithfully  in  a  retired  part  of  this  desolate  region,  slept 
upon  a  ground  floor,  and  at  last  sank  under  the  accumu- 
lated weight  of  his  burdens.  From  him  I  learned 
much  of  the  poverty  of  the  country,  and  much  did  he 
lament  the  want  of  vital  piety  in  the  hearts  of  those 
who  professed  Christ.  "  I  am  sick,"  he  said,  "  of  nomi- 
nal Christianity." 

Monday  morning. — My  heart  was  light  and  buoyant, 
and  the  young  Catholic  lady  set  off  with  me  to  Diamond 
Mountain,  a  walk  of  ten  miles,  where  we  had  been 
invited  by  two  police-men  the  Saturday  previous.  We 
filled  a  basket  with  books,  and  were  early  on  our  way. 
The  walk  was  romantic,  diversified  with  lofty  moun- 
tains, transparent  lakes,  and  every  variety  of  man, 
woman,  and  child,  that  poverty  could  present.  Women 
with  all  kinds  of  burdens,  doing  all  manner  of  work  ; 
some  shovelling  sea-gravel  into  baskets,  lifting  it  upon 
their  backs,  and  throwing  it  upon  the  potatoe-ridges. 

*  This  little  act  of  kindness  said  more  for  their  true  Christian 
hospitality  towards  a  stranger,  than  money  would  have  done. 


406  CO.  OF  GALWAY.  [chap.  xxiv. 

^'  This  is  hard  work,"  I  observed,  "  for  women."  "  This 
is  our  lot,"  answered  one,  "  and  we  must  do  it ;  but  if 
we  had  money  to  go  to  your  country  we  wouldn't  be 
here."  One  shrewd  woman  said,  "  I  wish  there  would 
be  war;  then  we'd  have  both  work  and  money.  Any- 
thing for  a  change.  Here  we  toil  like  dogs  and  beasts, 
and  live  because  the  Almightj'  God  don't  call  us." 
This  woman  was  daily  employed  at  this  heavy  work, 
for  five  pence  a  day,  leaving  her  husband  and  ten  chil- 
dren at  home,  a  mile  from  her  place  of  labor.  We 
passed  her  cabin,  and  found  her  husband  doing  a  little 
job  at  coopering.  Miserable,  miserable  huts,  and  rag- 
ged children,  so  darkened  the  pleasant  scenery  of  moun- 
tain, lake,  and  river,  that  my  morning  buoyancy  began 
to  flag  a  little. 

On  a  rocky  promontory  of  steep  ascent  sat  a  Conne- 
mara  woman,  with  a  red  flannel  jacket  and  petticoat, 
looking  out,  and  a  ragged  girl  standing  near.  I  ran 
up  the  rock,  sat  down  at  a  little  distance,  and  com- 
menced singing.  She  sat  mute,  looking  into  the  sea, 
as  if  petrified;  and  though  a  boat  was  cheering,  and 
crying  "  Long  life  to  you,"  she  remained  unmoved, 
and  when  I  proff"ered  my  hand,  and  spoke  kindly,  she 
looked  steadily,  but  made  no  attempt  at  speaking.'-  We 
passed  down  and  left  her,  nor  did  she  move  till  we  had 
gone  from  her  sight.  We  next  called  at  a  cabin,  where 
a  number  of  children  had  collected,  to  whom  we  gave 
books.  Finding  they  attended  a  school  near,  we  entered 
the  school-room,  and  may  I  never  see  the  like  again. 
In  one  corner  was  a  pile  of  potatoes,  kept  from  rolling 
down  by  stones,  on  which  the  ragged  bare-footed  chil- 
dren were  seated.  In  another  corner  was  a  pile  of  cart 
wheels,  which  were  used  for  the  same  purpose ;  and  in 
the  middle  of  the  room  was  a  circular  hole  made  in  the 
ground,  for  the  turf  fire.  Not  a  window,  chair,  or 
bench  could  be  seen.  The  pupils,  with  scarcely  a  book, 
looked  more  like  children  who  had  sheltered  themselves 
there  in  a  fright,  to  escape  the  fury  of  a  mad  animal, 
or  the  tomahawk  of  some  yelling  savage,  than  those 
who   had   assembled   for   the   benefit   of   the   light   of 


CHAP.  XXIV.]  CO.  OF  GALWAY.  407 

science.  This  was  a  Connemara  school,  and  it  was  all 
they  could  do.  I  had  seen  sprinkled  all  over  Ireland, 
schools  in  miserable  cabins,  where  were  huddled  from 
forty  to  seventy  in  a  dark  room  without  a  chimney  ;  but 
they  had  benches  to  sit  upon,  and  their  school-room 
was  upon  the  way-side,  while  this  one  was  in  a  wet  back- 
yard. Those  parents  who  are  able,  pay  a  penny  a 
week ;  those  who  are  not,  pay  nothing ;  while  the 
wealthiest  among  them  pay  half  a  crown  a  quarter.  I 
saw  many  schools  of  this  kind,  where  the  child  takes  a 
piece  of  turf  under  his  arm,  and  goes  two  miles,  and 
sometimes  three,  without  breakfast.  In  many  parts  of 
the  south,  and  among  the  mountains,  they  could  eat  but 
once  in  the  day  from  Christmas  to  the  next  harvest, 
and  this  meal  is  generally  from  two  to  three  o'clock. 

We  now  proceeded  to  the  police-station.  Here  the 
wife  of  the  sergeant  treated  us  politely,  and  placed  a 
dinner  of  meat,  bread,  and  potatoes  before  us  ;  and  the 
sergeant  then  sent  two  of  his  men  to  show  us  Diamond 
Mountain,  so  called  from  having  upon  the  top  a  trans- 
parent stone  which  resembles  a  diamond,  and  is  used  in 
breast-pins  and  bracelets.  We  waded  through  bog  till 
the  ascent  became  difficult,  and  the  rain  poured  down 
without  mercy.  We  crawled  under  a  shelving  rock,  but 
the  furious  wind  sent  the  drops  to  seek  us  out,  and  we 
again  attempted  the  ascent.  To  me  it  was  quite  diffi- 
cult, and  a  little  dangerous,  my  India-rubber  shoes  slip- 
ping, and  compelling  me  to  crawl,  and  support  myself 
by  holding  to  the  heath.  Here  I  lost  a  second  pair  of 
silver-mounted  spectacles,  which  I  used  entirely  for 
reading,  and  which  had  served  me  years  for  that  pur- 
pose. I  looked  back  to  Lismore,  renewed  the  lament 
there  made  at  the  loss  of  my  favorites,  and  felt  that 
spectacle  troubles  were  peculiarly  my  lot. 

The  mountain  was  a  mile  high  ;  one  of  the  men  had 
gained  an  eminence  above  us,  and  commenced  rolling 
tremendous  stones  down  the  precipice,  which  bounding 
from  hillock  to  hillock,  from  rock  to  rock,  made  a  most 
frightful  appearance  as  they  tore  their  way,   splitting 


408  CO.  OF  GALWAY.  [chap.  xxiv. 

and  thiinderinfr  till  the  mountain  trembled  as  bj  a  slight 
earthquake.  To  finish  the  drama,  he  crept  upon  the 
highest  peak  of  the  rock,  where  was  poised  a  stone  of 
tons  weight.  He  gave  a  desperate  push,  and  dis- 
lodged it.  I  saw  the  first  movement  of  his  body  and 
fell  upon  my  face,  supposing  man  and  rock  were  tum- 
bling together.  The  young  woman  had  succeeded  in 
reaching  a  shelving  part  of  the  cliff,  and  was  holding 
by  some  twigs.  1  ventured,  as  the  thundering  a  little 
ceased,  to  peep  up,  and  saw  her  standing  like  a  petrified 
monument,  her  white  naked  feet  looking  like  marble. 
When  the  rock  had  shattered  in  fragments,  all  was  still, 
and  the  police-man  called  out,  "  I  am  here."  I  looked, 
there  he  sat  upon  the  frightful  pinnacle,  happy,  as  he 
afterwards  acknowledged,  that  he  did  not  pay  for  his 
presumption  by  going  headlong. 

The  steep  upon  which  the  young  woman  stood  was 
nearly  perpendicular ;  she  had  contrived  to  accom- 
plish the  ascent  by  disrobing  her  feet,  and  insisted 
that  I  should  do  the  same,  and  follow  her.  "Here," 
she  said,  "  you  can  see  all  the  world,  and  all  the 
sea,  and  here,  too,  is  a  cave."  I  crept  up  with  my 
India-rubbers  upon  my  feet,  but  so  steep  and  so  slip- 
pery was  it,  that  I  could  retain  my  position  only  by 
holding  fast  to  the  heath.  Here  was  a  cave  like  a 
room,  with  a  stone  in  the  middle  for  a  seat,  and  the 
roof  of  square  stones  as  if  laid  by  the  hand  of  man. 
It  seemed  impossible  that  this  could  be  the  work  of 
nature,  yet  what  monk  or  chieftain  could  carry  up  his 
food  and  his  water,  and  subsist  upon  the  mountain  ? 
It  was  a  proud  height.  A  mile  were  we  sitting,  or 
rather  hanging,  above  the  level  where  we  commenced, 
and  the  sea  and  earth  seemed  spread  beneath  us.  The 
presumptuous  man  kept  his  position,  looking  at  the 
crumbling  fragments,  and  said  he  well  nigh  lost  his 
balance,  and  was  shocked  at  his  own  bold  exploit.  We 
could  not  reach  the  diamonds.  The  rain  was  pouring, 
and  how  to  descend  was  the  question.  The  bare- 
footed girl  could  keep  her  hold,  while  my  slippery  rub- 
bers exposed  me  at  every  step  to  a  long  slide  which 


CHAP.xxiv.J  CO.  OF  GALWAY.  40§ 

might  be  fatal.  But  by  sitting  down  and  sliding  where 
walking  was  impossible,  I  succeeded  in  reaching  a  cabin 
near  the  bottom,  in  time  to  secure  a  couple  of  roasted 
potatoes,  which  the  adventurous  policeman  and  girl  had 
prepared  from  a  heap  in  the  corner,  where  was  a  fire, 
and  a  little  girl  only  to  keep  it. 

We  reached  the  barracks,  leaving  the  diamonds  to 
sparkle  at  a  distance,  as  all  diamonds  generally  do.  But 
a  kind  lady  gave  me  some  fine  specimens  which  were 
gathered  from  the  rock,  and  nothing  now  remained 
but  tc  compose  my  mind  with  the  loss  of  the  spec- 
tacles, and  a  breast  pin  of  Killarney  curiosity  in  ad- 
dition. 

A  good  fire  and  pot  of  potatoes  dried  our  clothes  and 
filled  our  mouths  ;  and  now  for  the  lodging.  The  po- 
liceman had  promised  to  secure  this,  but  deferred  it  till 
night,  when  we  had  no  time  for  choosing.  And  if  the 
compassionate  reader  has  been  touched  by  our  mountain 
adventure,  let  his  sympathy  follow  us  to  the  lobby  at 
least  of  our  resting-place. 

As  the  policeman  led  us  to  the  door,  "  You  will  as 
usual,"  he  said,  "  find  cattle  in  the  room,  but  you  will 
have  a  clean  bed.''  Ah,  the  poor  hapless  girl  aad  my- 
self tested  that  bed  !  We  entered  the  house,  two  cows 
were  lying  and  chewing  their  cud,  and  a  horse  capari- 
soned with  a  straw  saddle  taking  his  supper.  The 
mistress  was  sitting  on  a  stone  projecting  from  the 
chimney,  her  head  up  the  pipe  of  it,  smoking.  She 
could  lodge  us  "  right  well,"  and  we  were  shown  into 
the  room,  our  feet  sticking  upon  the  floor,  which  when 
damp  is  like  pitch  and  tar.  We  instantly  committed 
ourselves  to  our  fate.  The  father  and  mother  soon  joined 
us,  and  men,  women,  and  boys,  were  in  an  almost  open 
loft  over  our  heads. 

Daylight  did  certainly  dawn ;  we  rose  in  good  time, 
paid  our  bill,  and  said  good  morning  to  the  mistress, 
leaving  her  in  the  same  spot  where  we  found  her,  and 
at  the  same  employment,  with  her  cows  and  horse  by  her 
side. 

Tully  was  the  next  destined  post,  without  breakfast* 
18 


410  CO.  OF  GAL  WAY.  [chap.  xxiv. 

Wind  and  rain  confronted  us  at  every  step  ;  we  called 
at  the  cabins  when  we  could  not  help  it,  and  cer- 
tainly they  were  among  the  miserable.  It  was  twelve 
when  we  reached  Tully.  I  had  gone  supperless  to 
bed,  and  passed  a  sleepless  night,  and  walked  through 
mud  and  rain  till  twelve,  and  now  felt  the  need  of 
food.  To  our  sad  disappointment,  not  a  loaf  of 
bread  was  in  the  town,  and  the  good  Methodist  lady 
where  we  stopped  said  there  had  been  none  for  six 
weeks !  Can  you  believe,  who  may  read  this,  that 
in  1845,  when  there  had  been  no  failure  of  crops,  an 
assize  town  with  tasty-looking  houses  lived  six  weeks 
on  nothing  but  potatoes  !  An  old  man  kept  a  shop 
with  a  little  flour,  but  so  rare  was  the  call  for  it 
that  he  was  out  of  town  most  of  the  time,  leaving 
his  door  locked.  He  returned  that  day,  so  that  by  two 
oV-lock  my  hunger  was  a  little  calmed  by  a  soda  cake. 
We  then  visited  the  National  School,  taught  by  the 
son  of  the  woman  where  we  stopped,  and  found  it  un- 
der good  regulations.  The  teacher  had  a  salary  of 
twelve  pounds  a  year. 

We  walked  out  of  town ;  stopped  at  a  cabin  where  a 
Catholic  old  man,  who  had  been  a  sailor,  kept  us  too 
long ;  for  so  powerful  was  the  eflluvia  from  various  kinds 
of  filth  of  cabin  and  cattle,  that  the  girl,  though  used 
to  such  places,  became  nauseated,  turned  pale,  and  was 
faint.  We  gladly  got  out  into  the  fresh  air,  but  the 
girl  was  quite  ill  for  an  hour.  We  sought  a  decent 
house,  found  a  decent  bed,  and  paid  a  decent  price,  and 
took  a  breakfast  of  potatoes  with  the  good  Methodist 
woman.  Walked  back,  and  took  a  second  tour  on  Dia- 
mond Mountain  for  the  spectacles,  all  unavailing,  and 
we  returned  to  Clifden,  certainly  wiser  than  we  were 
three  days  before,  and  I  was  certainly  poorer.  The 
next  morning  for  Omey. 

At  an  early  hour  I  set  off  from  Clifden  (the  capital) 
to  visit  this  island,  the  distance  of  seven  miles.  Reach- 
ing a  village  of  the  most  ancient  kind,  such  as  houses 
of  stone,  constructed  like  a  loose  stone  wall,  without 
gable  ends — some  with  tops  like  a  bee-hive,  or  inverted 


CHAP.  XXIV.]  CO.  OF  GAL  WAY.  411 

basket — some  with  holes  for  smoke  to  ascend,  and  some 
with  no  way  for  its  escape  but  through  the  door ;  I  se- 
lected one  of  the  largest  dimensions,  knowing  that  there 
would  be  a  full  turn-out  from  every  cabin  and  potatoe- 
field  in  sight  and  hearing.  I  was  not  disappointed.  As 
if  by  magic,  in  a  few  moments  every  neighboring  cabin 
was  vacated,  the  hill-side  and  bog  had  not  a  foot  to 
tread  them — every  spade  was  dropped,  and  in  a  few 
moments  the  ground  of  the  cabin  was  literally  packed 
with  men,  women,  and  children,  in  rags  and  tatters — 
some  with  hair  erect,  and  some  with  caps,  and  some  with 
hats,  but  more  with  none.  In  one  solid  mass  they  all 
sat  down  upon  their  haunches,  and  began  their  wel- 
comes to  Ireland,  and  their  wonder  that  so  "goodly  a 
body  should  leave  so  fine  a  country  to  see  such  a  poor 
people  ;"  my  polka  coat,  my  velvet  bonnet,  and  all  that 
outwardly  appertained  to  me  passed  in  review.  Taking 
out  a  tract,  I  read  a  little,  while  they  wondered  at  my 
^'  plain  spache,"  and  thanked  God  that  they  had  seen 
such  a  devotee,  going,  as  they  supposed,  on  penance. 
"  A*nd  sure  ye  must  be  hungry — and  such  a  dacent  body 
wouldn't  ait  a  potatoe."  Assuring  them  I  was  not  hun- 
gry, they  all  rose  and  joined  in  one  universal  valedic- 
tory of,  "  God  bless  ye,  and  speed  ye  on  yer  journey." 
One  woman  followed  ms  out,  and  begged  me  to  turn 
into  her  cabin  and  take  an  egg  ;  I  told  her  that  I  was 
greatly  obliged  that  she  should  show  me  so  much  kind- 
ness, but  1  must  hasten  to  secure  a  walk  across  the 
strand  before  the  tide  should  set  in. 

1  crossed  the  strand,  and  reached  an  island  a  mile 
in  diameter,  of  one  rude  pile  of  stone,  with  a  little 
patch  now  and  then  of  green,  without  a  road,  the 
foot-paths  being  so  obscured  by  sand  blown  in  from 
the  beach,  that  guess-work  was  my  only  guide.  Here 
were  huts,  seme  of  stone,  and  some  of  mud  ;  and  here, 
too,  were  habitations  dug  in  the  sand,  as  rabbits  bur- 
row, and  whole  families  live  therein  ;  an  aperture  to 
crawl  in  admits  the  inmates,  serving  as  door,  window, 
and  chimney ;  on  the  ground    straw  is  spread,  which 


412  CO.  OF  GALWAY.  [chap.  xxiv. 

serves  for  table,  bed,  and  cbair.  At  eacli  end  of  this 
island  live  the  owners,  called  "  lords." 

The  miseries  of  that  island  must  be  seen  to  be  be- 
lieved. I  went  into  a  hut,  and  found  a  family  about 
drawing  their  stools  around  a  basket  of  potatoes. 
They  received  me  with  much  urbanity,  made  sensible 
inquiries  of  my  country,  and  spoke  of  the  good  she 
had  done  to  poor  Ireland.  Seeing  that  their  dinner 
was  cooling,  I  said,  "your  potatoes  look  quite  tempt- 
ing, sir  ;  may  I  take  one  ?"  "  Take  one  !"  said  the 
delighted  wife,  "  would  ye  ate  one.^"  The  man  added, 
"  I  was  ashamed,  ma'am,  to  be  seen  aitin'  'em  while 
you  was  in.  This  is  a  dry  bit,  without  milk  or  butter, 
ma'am,  and  yer  country  never  ait  like  this.''  "  Can 
you  read?"  I  asked.  "I  could  once,  ma'am,  but  my 
eyes  are  grown  dim."  I  handed  him  a  tract,  and  he 
read  tolerably ;  went  out,  and  called  his  son  to  choose 
one  from  my  bundle  for  himself,  as  I  had  given  him  the 
privilege.  They  had  selected  the  finest  potatoes  forme, 
and  toasted  them  upon  the  coals.  They  had  two  guests 
besides;  a  beggar,  and  a  friend  of  their  own,  and  all 
had  a  scanty  dinner  but  myself.  The  guests  would  not 
eat  till  I  was  well  supplied,  and  the  poor  man  did  not 
make  a  comfortable  meal,  and  this  was  the  only  meal 
for  the  day. 

The  son  was    sent   to    show  me   the  path  to   Lady 

M ,  and,  wading  ancle-deep  in  sand,  I  made  my 

way  to  it,  and  found  an  entrance  into  the  kitchen. 
The  lady  had  gone  to  Clifden,  and  the  floorless  room 
was  a  deposit  for  calves,  pigs,  hens,  and  ducks.  Two 
servants  were  sitting  on  the  hearth,  and  handing 
one  a  tract,  which  had  a  red  cover,  the  scene  that 
followed  I  better  felt  than  my  tongue  or  pen  can  de- 
scribe. The  girl  went  out,  and  in  a  few  minutes  the 
dilapidated  door,  with  a  tremendous  noise,  was  burst 
open,  pouring  in  a  host  of  men,  boys,  and  girls,  who 
were  employed  planting  potatoes ;  and  they  with  one 
consent  pounced  upon  me,  demanding  books,  and  they 
must  be  red  ones.  Begging  them  to  be  quiet,  and  I 
would  make   an  equal  distribution  (having  about  fifty 


CHAP.  XXIV.]  CO.  OF  GALWAY.  413 

"witli  me) — they  would  hear  to  none  of  this,  but  rummag- 
ed my  basket,  demanding  an  entrance  into  my  pocket, 
all  clamoring  at  once,  some  in  Irish,  and  others  in  brok- 
en English,  while  the  servant  girl  stood  aghast.  A  man 
more  manageable  than  the  rest,  who  had  entered  before 
the  mob,  and  had  been  reading  a  tract,  declared  to 
them  that  the  books  were  "  dacent,"  and  that  they  were 
blackguards ;  and  after  I  had  given  the  only  one  in  my 
possession,  he  succeeded  by  physical  force  to  drag  them 
out  of  the  house — such  as  were  dragable,  while  the  oth- 
ers took  their  own  time  and  own  way.  I  made  off,  with 
an  apology  from  the  servant,  that  she  could  give  me  no- 
thing to  eat,  as  all  was  "  locked  up." 

My  next  depot  was  to  be  at  the  extremity  of  the 
island,  where  lived  the  other  ''lady."  She,  too,  was 
out ;  but  I  was  admitted  into  the  kitchen,  and  had  a 
quiet  survey  of  what  was  passing  there.  Here  I  counted 
sixty-three  living  and  moving  beings,  quadruped  and 
biped,  besides  such  as  walked  erect — a  kennel  of  dogs, 
three  coops  for  hens,  chickens  and  ducks,  a  calf  or  two, 
a  pen  of  young  pigs,  a  fold  of  sheep  and  lambs,  and  an 
able-bodied  goat — these  all  walked  and  talked  each 
his  own  language,  with  no  pugnacious  symptoms ;  and 
if  the  "  lion  and  lamb  did  not  lie  down  together,"  the 
goat  and  lamb  did. 

But  the  "  lady,"  — she  entered  with  a  goodly-looking 
daughter  of  fifteen,  both  attired  in  long  linen  coats, 
with  respectable  tails  reaching  nearly  to  the  ground, 
worn  by  the  father  and  brother.  They  passed  through, 
in  dignified  silence,  and  in  a  moment  the  lady  returned, 
saying,  "  Come  down  to  the  parlor."  I  went  down  to 
the  parlor,  and  here  was  a  ground  floor,  a  dirty-look- 
ing bed,  a  few  wooden-bottom  chairs,  and  a  table  by 
the  wall,  with  one  leaf  turned  up,  and  a  platter  of  po- 
tatoes and  a  cup  of  milk.  "  Will  you  take  some  din- 
ner .'"  I  did  not  decline,  for  I  was  hungry,  and  a  long 
walk  before  me,  and  the  tide  not  yet  out,  and  the  sun 
was  set.  The  lady  was  young-looking  and  handsome, 
and  the  mother  of  sixteen  hopefuls,  was  rich,  and  rode 
out  to  Clifden,  giving  great  dinners  in  the  city,  and 


414  CO.  OF  GAL  WAY.  [chap.  xxiv. 

on  the  island,  assimilating  herself  to  the  society  around 
her. 

Eight  o'clock,  the  tide  was  said  to  be  out,  and  I  had 
a  strand  of  a  mile  to  cross,  and  six  miles  to  Clifden  then 
before  me.  A  boy  was  sent  to  show  me  the  shortest 
course,  and  when  I  had  nearly  reached  the  strand,  a 
girl  called  out,  *'  The  mistress  says  may  be  you'll  come 
back,  and  stop  all  night."  A  strange  oversight,  my 
pride  answered,  that  this  invitation  was  not  given  be- 
fore. I  thanked  the  child  and  went  on,  quite  to  my 
disadvantage.  Midway  the  strand  in  the  sea  was  quite 
deep  :  I  waded  in  and  stood  demurring  ;  the  night  was 
dark,  and  to  find  a  passage  out  seemed  impossible.  I 
turned  back,  and  made  my  way  to  the  "lady's;"  she 
then  made  a  shrewd  investigation  of  the  cause  of  my 
visit.  Looking  at  her  altogether,  her  savage  living,  her 
ragged  dress,  and  pretence  to  high  rank,  I  was  disgust- 
ed to  find  myself  at  the  option  of  such  an  "  out  of  the 
way  affair,"  and  I  told  her  plainly  I  came  to  Ireland 
because  I  had  a  right  to  come  ;  that  they  were  daily 
sending  loads  of  beggared  and  abused  emigrants  to  us, 
and  I  had  come  to  see  how  and  what  they  could  be  at 
home ;  and  making  the  application  to  her  own  kitchen, 
she  understood  me  when  1  said,  "  I  have  seen,  and  am 
satisfied."  She  was  rebuked,  and  treated  me  with  un- 
common attention  through  the  evening.  She  gave  me 
a  clean  bed,  in  a  floorless  room,  a  cup  of  milk  by  my 
side  to  drink  in  the  night,  and  in  the  morning  present- 
ed me  with  a  dish  of  potatoes,  and  was  sorry  she  had 
no  bread  ;  declining  the  potatoes,  I  walked  the  seven 
miles  without  eating,  and  was  much  enriched  by  what  I 
had  seen. 

My  way  home  was  intricate.  I  found  myself  en- 
tangled in  rocks,  after  crossing  the  strand,  and  was  a 
full  hour  climbing  and  creeping  to  get  out.  I  at  last 
found  the  road,  and  the  village  where  I  stopped  the 
preceding  day,  and  had  another  meeting.  One  woman 
among  them  had  been  bred  in  Galway,  and  invited  me 
into  her  cabin,  which  though  dark  was  cleanly,  and 
remarked   that    Connemara   had    greatly  improved   in 


CHAP.  XXV.]  CO.  OF  GALWAY.  415 

the  last  twenty  years.  That  then  their  time  was  spent 
in  the  most  degrading  vicious  manner  that  could  be 
imagined ;  the  can  of  whiskey  was  carried  from  cabin 
to  cabin,  and  whole  days  and  nights  spent  in  glee  and 
drunkenness  ;  and  their  persons,  their  cabins,  and  their 
beds  so  filthy  that  they  were  intolerable  to  all  but  them- 
selves. I  assured  her  the  latter  was  now  the  case 
throughout  Ireland,  so  far  as  I  had  travelled ;  and  were 
it  not  that  they  were  God's  creatures,  made  in  his  image, 
and  bound  to  his  tribunal,  I  would  say  of  many  of  them, 
"He  that  is  filthy  let  him  be  filthy  still,"  before  I 
would  risk  my  eyes,  my  nose,  or  my  garments  within 
gallopping  distance  of  their  multitudinous  disgusting 
unmentionables.  "No  hope,"  she  sighed,  "for  poor 
Ireland!"  Glad  was  I  to  see  Clifden,  having  eaten 
scarcely  three  ounces  of  food  since  I  left  it. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

Misfortune  in  Clifden— Reverse  of  Fortune— An  Ae:ed  Pilgrim— Eager  Listeners 
— Visit  to  a  Dying  Man — Glorious  Sunset — An  officious  Policeman — Lady 
Clare — Arrival  in  Galway — Obtrusiveness  of  the  Women — A  Sermon  on  Bap« 
tism — Journey  to  Westport — Introduction  to  Mr.  Poundon — A  devoted  Pres- 
byterian Minister— Sketch  of  a  Christian  Missionary,  such  as  Ireland  needs— 
Croagh  Patrick — Hazardous  Ascent  to  the  Mountain — Grand  Prospect  from 
the  Summit — Return  to  Westport — Doubts  Removed — Filial  Aflection — A 
Poor  Protestant. 

Saturday  morning,  while  across  the  street  speaking 
to  a  blind  man,  my  purse  was  robbed  of  three  half 
crowns  and  a  few  pennies,  by  a  little  servant  girl, 
who  had  seen  me  take  out  some,  and  run  out  in  haste, 
leaving  my  purse  and  bag  upon  my  bed.  Clifden  was 
an  unfortunate  spot  for  me.  A  pair  of  new  gloves 
had  been  taken  the  day  previous,  my  spectacles  and 
breast-pin  lost,  and  now  my  money.  Went  out  and 
visited  schools,  found  one  in  miserable  plight,  crowd- 
ed, dirty,  and  noisy,  and  the  teacher  in  keeping  with 
the  whole.     A    second   was  a   well  ordered  one,  the 


416  CO.  OF  GAL  WAY.  [chap.  xxv. 

teacher  a  man  of  sense  as  well  as  learning.  A  family 
who  opened  a  boarding  school,  invited  me  to  pass  a 
few  days  in  their  house,  and  I  found  them  with 
the  remains  of  a  ruined  fortune,  struo-o-ling  to  educate 
their  own  children  by  teaching  others.  A  class  of  peo- 
ple quite  plentiful  throughout  Ireland  are  those  who 
once  were  in  higher  life,  and  are  now  struggling  to  keep 
their  hold  of  the  crazy  boat.  But  those  are  generally 
found  to  be  the  better  sort  of  society ;  having  been 
schooled  in  affliction,  they  have  felt  the  uncertainty,  of 
all  earthly  calculations,  and  by  intercourse  with  the  en- 
lightened class  of  the  community,  they  have  acquired 
knowledge  and  habits  which  make  them  interesting, 
and  often  useful  acquaintances.  Their  pride  at  the  same 
time  has  been  so  wounded,  that,  if  not  humbled  effectu- 
ally, they  are  more  condescending  and  more  communi- 
cative to  such  as  are  below  them. 

In  the  family  where  I  lodged  resided  the  mother  of 
the  mistress  of  the  house,  and  she  was  a  character 
worthy  of  a  place  in  a  better  journal  than  mine.  She 
had  seen  more  than  four-score  years,  yet  her  intellect 
was  clear,  and  though  infirm,  not  peevish  ;  cleanly  and 
attractive  in  her  person.  By  her  bed-side  I  passed 
many  a  pleasant  hour,  reading  to  her  attentive  mind 
the  Word  of  God.  One  evening,  after  reading,  she 
added,  "  What  blessed  words !  what  blessed  words ! 
and  may  I  ask  you  what'  you  think  of  the  Virgin  ?" 
I  told  her,  and  added,  as  I  have  ever  done,  the  reason 
why  I  do  not  worship  her  ;  "  because  God  had  not 
enjoined  it;"  and  then  read  the  18th  and  19th  verses 
of  the  last  chapter  of  Revelations.  She  exclaimed, 
"  O  my  God  !  what  have  I  done  if  this  be  true  ?  what 
have  I  done  .''  God  have  mercy  on  me."  She  con- 
tinued this  for  some  time,  she  wept,  and  prayed  that 
God  might  forgive  her ;  and  during  my  stay,  whenever 
she  heard  my  footsteps  in  an  adjoining  room,  she  would 
inquire  if  I  were  coming  in,  and  if  1  would  read,  still 
continuing  the  lamentation  about  the  blessed  Virgin. 
"  What  shall  I  do  !  what  shall  I  do  !"  she  often  asked, 
and  was  as  often  told  to  go  to  Jesus ;  and  I  believe  she 
did  go. 


CHAP.  XXV.]  CO.  OF  GALWAY.  417 

Sabbath. — I  spent  five  hours  reading  by  the  side  of 
her  bed,  and  was  surrounded  with  a  roomful  of  the 
most  attentive  hearers,  in  great  admiration — so  much 
so,  it  was  often  difficult  to  proceed.  I  read  a  tract  on 
the  operation  of  the  Holy  Spirit  upon  the  heart,  and  an 
aged  man  sitting  by  exclaimed,  "  Blessed  Jesus,  who 
ever  haird  the  like  !  I'm  an  ould  man,  and  never  before 
knew  rightly  what  was  the  meaning  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 
Did  ye  ever  .^"  he  said  to  the  listeners.  "  No,  no," 
was  the  united  answer.  The  chapel  bell  was  sounding 
every  hour,  when  one  said,  ''  We  hav'n't  been  to  mass 
this  mornin'."  '^  And  hav'n't  we  haird  more  than  we 
should  there  ?  The  like  of  this  raidin'  we  shouldn't 
hear  in  many  a  day's  walk."  I  was  obliged  to  close. 
five  hours  of  constant  reading  and  talking  afiected  my 
voice,  and  I  could  only  commend  them  to  God,  and  say 
adieu  for  ever.  As  they  lingered,  blessing  and  thank- 
ing me,  one  said,  "  Aw,  no  mass  was  ever  like  this,  I 
could  be  listenin'  till  the  mornin'."  These  people  are 
asking  to  be  fed,  and  their  ears  are  open  to  instruction; 
but  the  little  facility  of  reading  which  the  adults 
possess  puts  it  out  of  their  power  to  attain  much  infor- 
mation, and  their  extreme  poverty  prevents  their  giving 
an  advanced  education  to  their  children. 

Thursday,  May  loth. — Prepared  to  depart,  gave  all 
the  farewells  to  the  family,  and  while  the  trembling 
hand  of  the  old  lady  to  whom  I  had  read  so  much 
pressed  mine,  her  still  more  trembling  voice  said, 
"  The  Almighty  God  be  with  ye,  and  I  do  believe  we 
shall  meet  in  heaven."  1  felt  grateful  to  God  that  I 
had  met  this  old  pilgrim,  and  cheered  her  a  little  on  her 
passage  to  the  grave.  She  knew,  she  felt,  that  she  was 
on  the  confines  of  the  eternal  world,  and  her  only  de- 
sire was  that  Christ  would  be  glorified  in  her,  and  fit 
her  to  depart  in  peace.  Mrs.  M.,  her  daughter,  and 
the  young  woman  who  accompanied  me  to  Tully,  went 
out  with  me  a  mile  on  my  way,  and  we  called  at  a  cabin 
to  see  a  sick  woman,  who  the  day  previous  was  present 
at  the  long  reading.  I  was  now  obliged  to  say  adieu  to 
my  companions  and  Clifden  for  ever.  It  was  painful 
IS* 


418  CO.  OF  GALWAY.  [c«ap.  xxv, 

to  leave  the  interesting  girl,  who  had  seen  better  days 
in  the  life-time  of  her  father,  and  is  now  destitute  of 
those  means  of  acquiring  that  instruction  which  she  is 
so  anxious  to  obtain. 

Galway  was  my  destination,  and  I  ascended  a  car  of 
the  common  kind,  in  company  with  a  young  married 
woman,  and  Wm.  Keane,  the  good  man  who  had  oflFered 
me  a  ride  from  the  Roundstone  at  the  Half-way  house. 
He  had  a  noble  heart,  and  some  refinement  of  manner. 
1  begged  to  stop  at  the  cabin  of  the  kind  man  who  gave 
me  a  lodging  on  the  bundle  of  straw.  Mr.  K.  went  to 
the  door,  and  called  him.  He  crept  out,  tottering,  to 
the  road,  a  handkerchief  about  his  head  ;  his  pale  face, 
hisbrio-ht  eye,  and  husky  voice  telling  that  consumption 
was  consuming  his  vitals.  "  I  can  get  no  good  here, 
ma'am,  and  plaise  God  I  shall  go  back  to  Tralee,  if  the 
good  God  don't  take  me  away."  I  presented  him  a 
Testament,  telling  him  it  was  the  good  book  1  read  to 
him  when  there.  "  An'  God  bless  ye,  and  warn't  ye  a 
blessin'  to  me  when  in  my  cabin,  and  I  can  do  nothing 
to  pay  ye."  I  gave  the  children  some  books,  and  as  he 
turned  away,  he  spoke  in  a  low  tone  to  Mr.  K.,  "Take 
care  of  that  woman ;  she's  a  blessin'  to  Ireland.  She 
was  a  blassin'  to  me  ;  and  God  1  know  will  bless  her." 
This  was  too  much,  when  I  had  been  so  hospitably  shel- 
tered from  the  storm  at  his  expense.  It  was  I  who  had 
received  the  blessing,  and  as  1  saw  him  slowly  creep  to 
his  cabin,  and  knew  that  he  must  soon  stand  disem- 
bodied before  his  judge,  I  prayed  that  the  good  seed 
sown  in  his  heart  might  spring  up  to  eternal  life. 

We  called  at  Mr.  Steely 's,  where  I  stayed  on  my  way 
to  Clifden  ;  stopped  long  enough  to  roast  me  a  couple 
of  potatoes,  and  distribute  a  few  tracts.  Then  passed 
the  pleasant  lakes  where  I  read  to  the  old  man  and  his 
dauorhter.  It  was  a  sunny  day,  and  the  mountain  and 
lake  scenery  was  exceedingly  beautiful.  We  reached 
the  Protestant  family  where  I  had  promised  to  leave 
some  books,  and  was  entreated  to  spend  a  night  with 
them,  but  could  not.  "  She  is  the  loveliest  woman," 
said  Mr.   Keene,  when  we  had  gone  out,  "  that  ever 


CHAP.  XXV.]  CO.  OF  GAL  WAY.  419 

lived  on  these  wild  mountains.  She's  a  Christian."  He 
was  a  Catholic,  yet  her  godly  example  convinced  him 
that  she  was  a  follower  of  Christ. 

It  was  now  about  sun-setting,  and  the  ride  to  Oute- 
rard  was  more  than  interesting.  Such  a  sun-setting 
and  such  a  twilight  by  sea  or  by  land  I  never  beheld. 
When  the  sun  sank  behind  the  mountain,  he  left  a  scal- 
loped edge  of  gold,  leaving  the  lofty  peaks  below  tinted 
with  the  richest  blue.  The  sky,  the  lakes,  and  the  curl- 
ing smoke  from  the  cabins  upon  the  sides  of  the  moun- 
tains, where  the  poor  peasants  had  built  their  evening 
fires  to  boil  their  potatoes, — the  rustics  returning  from 
labor,  or  from  the  market  at  Outerard, — the  crescent 
moon  looking  out  as  if  modestly  waiting  to  do  what  she 
could  when  the  sun  should  retire,  made  a  scene  of  the 
liveliest  and  loveliest  interest. 

I  almost  regretted  reaching  the  town  of  Outerard, 
but  here  found  pleasant  accommodations,  and  in  the 
morning  passed  out  to  walk  through  the  town  while  the 
car  was  getting  ready.  A  policeman  stepped  up,  "Are 
ye  Lady  Clare,  ma'am  .''-  "  I  am  not  Lady  Clare,  sir, 
but  Mrs.  N.  from  New  York."  "  From  New  York  ! 
and  what  brought  you  here  .'"'  "  To  see  you,  sir,  and 
the  rest  of  the  good  people  of  Ireland."  "  To  see  me, 
ah  !  and  you  know  it's  my  duty  to  inquire  of  every  sus- 
picious person  that  comes  along  what  their  business  is." 
''  Indeed,  sir  !  every  suspicious  person  !  And  is  it  your 
duty  to  ask  every  person  who  passes  peaceably  through 
your  country  what  his  business  is,  and  to  give  an  ac- 
count of  himself.^"  "It  is,  ma'am."  "Then  you 
have  duties  which  no  other  policeman  understands,  for 
1  have  travelled  a  great  part  of  Ireland,  and  the  police- 
officers  have  treated  me  with  the  greatest  kindness." 
He  turned  away,  went  to  the  sergeant,  and  asked  him  if 
he  should  arrest  me.  The  officer  told  him  no,  to  be  off 
about  his  business  ;  and  the  woman  who  accompanied 
me  lectured  him  so  severely  for  "  tratin'  a  dacent  body 
BO,"  telling  him  he  was  "  a  saucy  red-head,"  that  he 
walked  away,  silenced,  if  not  ashamed. 

This  Lady  Clare  I  was  told,  some  twelve  years  ago, 


4-20  CO.  OF  GALWAY.  [chap.  xxv. 

was  a  gentleman  in  disguise,  who  went  about  tlie  coun- 
try, inducing  the  laboring  people  to  swear  they  would 
not  work  for  less  than  a  stipulated  sum,  much  greater 
than  present  wages,  with  sundry  advantages  beside. 
And  if  the  landlord  refused  compliance,  they  would 
turn  out  in  the  night,  and  dig  up  his  meadows,  so  that 
he  would  be  compelled  to  till  them.  This  game  it  was 
said  was  now  in  operation  in  Clare,  and  the  newly  ini- 
tiated policeman,  hearing  I  had  come  to  visit  the  poor, 
determined  to  show  his  loyalty  to  government  by  bring- 
ing the  lady  before  it  in  due  season. 

We  reached  Galway,  and  I  felt  more  inclined  to  be 
home-sick  than  in  any  place  I  had  before  been.  I  took 
a  different  lodging  from  my  old  one,  but  found  no  im- 
provement ;  and  was  terribly  annoyed  by  the  Galway 
women  following  me  from  street  to  street,  from  alley  to 
alley,  fixing  their  full  unblinking  eyes  upon  me.  Their 
ugly  teeth,  their  red  petticoats,  and  repulsive  manners 
made  them  second  to  none,  even  the  Connaught  cordu- 
roys, in  all  that  was  to  be  dreaded. 

Sabbath  Day. — I  went  in  search  of  a  Methodist  cha- 
pel ;  a  young  man  generously  offered  to  show  the  way, 
and  I  found  myself  seated  in  a  gallery  in  a  Catholic 
one.  It  was  late,  and  the  sermon  on  baj^tism  had 
commenced.  A  good  exhortation  was  given  to  pa- 
rents to  train  their  children  faithfully  in  the  fear  of 
God.  The  sermon  was  closed  by  particular  direc- 
tions how  to  baptize  effectually,  should  any  layman  be 
called,  on  a  special  emergency,  to  perform  the  rite. 
We  were  told  emphatically  to  remark,  that  in  pro- 
nouncing the  name  of  the  Trinity,  if  each  distinct 
person  in  the  Godhead  were  not  spoken  or  named 
with  great  slowness  and  distinctness,  the  baptism  would 
be  good  for  nothing.  This  was  repeated,  that  each 
might  be  enlightened,  and  all  faithfully  enjoined  not  to 
forget  it.  At  evening  I  visited  the  Protestant  Sabbath- 
school,  and  listened  to  a  lady  explaining  the  lessons  to 
her  pupils,  who  showed  much  knowledge  of  the  Scriptures, 
and  appeared  to  be  deeply  impressed  with  their  value 
herself. 

Mojulay,   May  27th. — I  took  the  car  to  Westport,  a 


CHAP.  XXV.]  CO.  OF  MAYO.  421 

distance  of  fifty  miles.  Stopped  while  the  horses  were 
changing,  and  asked  for  a  penny's  worth  of  bread  and 
a  potatoe.  The  bread  was  brought,  but  was  quite  sour  ; 
they  had  no  potatoes.  Asked  for  a  little  milk,  a  girl 
went  to  the  cow,  and  with  unwashed  hands  milked  a 
few  spoonfuls  into  a  tea-cup,  and  presented  it  fresh 
from  the  mint.  I  refused  the  filthy-looking  beverage, 
took  a  halfpenny's  worth  of  the  sour  bread,  and  asked 
for  my  bill.  "  Sixpence,"  was  the  answer.  A  York 
shilling  for  a  cent's  worth  of  bread  !  ''A  good  profit," 
I  said.  They  paid  back  three-pence.  I  found  in  most 
hotels  in  Galway  and  Kerry,  what  I  had  not  met  so 
much  elsewhere,  a  disposition  to  take  the  most  they 
could  get,  however  extravagant  the  sum. 

A  few  hours  brought  us  to  Westport.  The  coach- 
man provided  me  a  wholesome  lodging-place.  The 
next  day  being  sunny,  I  enjoyed,  a  treat,  walking 
alone  over  the  shady  grounds  of  Lord  Sligo,  by  the 
side  of  pleasant  water,  with  all  the  etceteras  of  a 
gentleman's  demesne  who  lived  for  pleasure.  He  had 
died  a  few  months  before,  leaving  his  great  estate  to  a 
son  who  follows  his  steps. — "  Whatsoever  a  man 
soweth  that  shall  he  also  reap."  A  monument  erected 
by  the  citizens  to  his  agent,  in  honor  of  his  benevo- 
lence, is  a  pleasing  testimonial  of  gratitude,  and  says 
that  there  is  a  capability  in  the  Irish  heart,  even 
among  the  most  degraded  and  poor,  to  reciprocate 
kindness,  and  a  quick  perception  of  justice  when 
exercised  towards  them.  On  my  return,  called  into  a 
Protestant  school,  conducted  like  all  parochial  schools 
in  the  country,  and  by  the  teacher  was  introduced  to 
Mr.  Poundon,  the  rich  rector,  vrhose  estate  and  splen- 
dor, I  was  informed,  were  not  much  inferior  to  those  of 
Lord  Sligo.  From  him  I  ascertained  that  considerable 
had  been  done  for  schools,  and  the  spreading  of  the 
Scriptures  among  the  poor  ;  and  I  was  told  by  others 
that  he  is  a  man  of  benevolence,  improving  the  con- 
dition of  many  around  him.  My  next  call  was  to 
the  house  of  a  Scotch  Presbyterian,  named  Smith.  I 
mention   his   name  because  I  delight  to  dwell  upon  it ; 


CO.  OF  MAYO.  [cHAP.xiT. 


the  remembrance  of  those  "  mercy-drops"  in  the  desert, 
where  I  was  often  hungry  and  thu'sty,  is  pleasant  to 
the  soul.  His  wife,  who  is  of  a  good  family  in 
England,  received  and  welcomed  me  with  all  that 
Christian  courtesy  that  made  me  feel  myself  at  home 
among  kind  friends.  Something  was  immediately 
brought  me  to  eat,  and  presented  in  that  manner 
and  abundance  that  said,  "  you  will  oblige  me  great- 
ly by  partaking  unsparingly."  Reader,  did  you  ever 
eat  a  slice  of  the  '^  bread  of  covetousness  ?"  I  assure 
you  I  have,  and  it  is  bitter,  sour,  indigestible,  and 
quite  unfit  for  a  healthy  stomach.  This  was  not  such 
bread. 

This  family's  benevolence  was  on  the  lips  of  all  the 
poor  in  the  vicinity  ;  though  with  a  stinted  salary, 
that  salary  is  divided  among  the  children  of  want, 
till,  as  I  was  informed,  oftentimes  a  scanty  supply 
is  left  for  their  own  necessities.  Would  to  God,  Ire- 
land could  boast  many  more  such  among  the  full-fed, 
over-paid  clergy  of  the  country.  Here  I  found  a  de- 
voted, active,  efficient  Bible  reader,  with  a  salary  of 
thirty  pounds  a  year,  who  goes  from  house  to  house 
among  all  classes,  and  explains  the  Word  of  God  to 
those  who  have  not  access  to  it.  He  met  in  most  cases 
with  a  kind  reception,  and  why  ?  Because  he  went 
with  the  love  of  God  in  his  heart,  and  talked  of  this 
love  ;  held  up  Christ  and  him  crucified,  which  is  all 
the  sinner  needs.  If  love  will  not  melt  the  flinty  heart, 
will  bitterness  do  it  ?  I  truly  believe  that  the  Word 
of  God  would  not  only  have  been  received  with  wil- 
lingness, but  sought  after  by  the  greater  part  of  the 
peasantry  of  Ireland,  had   it  been  presented  with  no 


sectarian  denunciations,  and  had  all  the  teachers,  like 
this  one,  been  humble,  self-denying,  and  kindly.  It  is 
a  most  important  item  in  the  qualification  of  teachers, 
that  they  understand  human  nature  in  its  various  de- 
velopements.  It  is  not  enough  that  they  can  pronounce 
well,  elevate  and  depress  the  voice  according  to  the 
rules  of  punctuation,  expatiate  on  the  eloquence  of  St. 
Paul,  or  the  sin  of  Ananias.     They  should  know  well 


CHAP.  XXV.]  CO.  OF  MAYO.  4:33 

not  only  the  broad  avenues  to  the  heart,  but  the  nar- 
row streets  ;  yes,  and  every  repulsive  forbidden  alley. 
They  should  know,  too,  the  time  of  day  when  these 
paths  can  most  prudently  and  easily  be  trodden.  There 
is  not  a  heart  but  has  its  waxiugs  and  wanings  ;  there 
is  not  a  temperament  but  has  its  ebbings  and  Sowings ; 
and,  like  the  skilful  mariner,  they  should  know  where 
to  cast  anchor,  and  when  to  trim  the  sails.  They 
should  know  when  in  deep  water,  and  when  near  shoals 
and  quicksands.  In  travelling  the  entire  coast  of  Ire- 
land, I  needed  not  to  see  a  Bible-reader,  to  know  his 
abilities  or  faithfulness.  The  Irish  peasantry  have  an 
uncommonly  just  conception  of  propriety  and  impropri- 
ety, right  and  wrong,  benevolence  and  covetousness. 
A  dabster  at  his  trade,  or  a  filthy-lucre  laborer  is  quick- 
ly discerned. 

"  Lay  not  careless  hands,"  &c. 

I  was  now  in  the  vicinity  of  the  celebrated  moun- 
tain, where  we  are  told  St.  Patrick  stood,  when  he 
banished  the  venomous  serpents  from  the  island.  Its 
lofty  sharp  peak,  at  a  distance,  towering  to  the  skies, 
looked  as  if  it  could  scarcely  afford  breadth  for  more 
than  one  foot  at  a  time.  But  here  we  are  told  the 
holy  saint  stood,  and  here  we  are  shown  the  prints  of 
his  knees  where  he  prayed.  Here,  too,  is  an  altar  for 
worship,  and  here  the  inhabitants  of  the  adjacent 
parishes  assemble  yearly,  at  an  early  hour,  on  the  last 
Friday  in  July,  to  perform  what  they  call  stations. 
Multitudes  are  seen  climbing  the  difficult  and  danger- 
ous ascent,  from  the  town  of  Westport,  to  mingle  with 
fellow  pilgrims  from  other  parts ;  to  go  nine  times 
around  a  pile  of  stones,  call  their  sins  to  remembrance, 
ask  forgiveness,  and  promise  better  lives  in  future. 
A  sprightly  young  girl  I  had  met  on  the  path  offered 
to  accompany  me  at  an  early  hour  to  the  mountain. 
I  called  at  her  door  and  knocked  ;  the  girl  was  asleep, 
and  I  passed  on.  A  country  school-master  soon  ac- 
costed me,  and  learning  who  I  was,  walked  a  mile  with 
me,  to  give  a  history  of  his  school  and  country.     Like 


42^4  CO.  OF  MAYO.  [chap.  xxv. 

most  country  scliool-teachers,  lie  had  become  acquaint- 
ed with  the  hearths  of  all  the  domestic  domiciles  in  his 
parish  ;  and  to  appearance  he  could  rival  Goldsmith's 
controversialist  : — 

"  For  e'en  though  vanquished,  he  could  argue  slill." 

He  told  me  it  would  be  presumptuous  to  attempt  the 
ascent  of  the  mountain  alone,  and  begged  me  not  to 
think  of  it.  "  You  will  be  lost,  and  never  find  your  way  ; 
and  should  any  accident  befal  you,  no  one  could  know 
it,  and  you  would  perish  alone."  This  was  all  good 
sense,  and  I  was  more  than  mad  that  I  did  not  heed 
it.  Reaching  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  a  cabin  woman 
met  me,  and  offered  her  bright  lad  as  a  guide,  for  any 
trifle  that  the  lady  might  plase  to  give.  I  offered  as  a 
trial  two  pence  half-penny,  for  I  did  not  intend  taking 
a  guide  if  possible  to  avoid  it.  "  Oh,  he  shall  not  go 
for  that ;  but  as  you  are  a  lone  solitary  cratur,  he  shall 
go  chaper  than  he  ever  did,  and  that's  for  a  six-pence." 
I  happily  got  rid  of  the  annoyance  in  this  way,  and 
heard,  after  passing  the  door,  ''  SheHl  be  destroyed." 
I  went  on,  and  inquired  of  another  the  best  path.  A 
man  answered,  "  And  do  ye  think  ye  could  reach  the 
top  alone  ?  no  mortal  bein'  could  do  it.  But  one  man 
ever  did  it,  and  then  declared  he  wouldn't  do  the  like 
again  for  all  the  parish.  But  I  have  as  sprightly  a 
little  gal  as  is  in  all  the  country,  who  will  show  ye  every 
inch."  I  made  the  same  offer  as  to  the  woman,  and  re- 
ceived the  same  answer,  and  I  found  him  willing  to  run 
the  risk  of  having  me  killed,  which  he  assured  me  must 
be  the  case,  rather  than  lend  me  a  guide  for  a  trifle.  I 
mention  these  two  cases,  as  the  only  ones  I  now  recol- 
lect in  all  Ireland,  who  refused  me  a  favor  for  a  small 
equivalent. 

It  was  now  two  o'clock  :  three  Irish  miles  from  the 
main  road  was  the  top  of  the  mountain  said  to  be.  I 
looked  up,  the  sun  was  shining,  the  air  was  breezy,  my 
strength  and  spirits  were  good,  and  why  should  I  hesi- 
tate, when  I  had  so  many  times  in  Ireland  done  more 
out-of-the-way  "  impossibilities  .^"      I   went   on,   but 


CHAP.  XXV.]  CO.  OF  MAYO.  425- 

soon  was  lost  in  miry  bog,  and  intricate  windings  of 
deceitful  paths,  for  two  hours.  At  last  I  lost  a  beauti- 
ful Testament,  which  had  been  my  companion  for  many 
a  mile  ;  and  when  looking  for  that,  a  man  called  out, 
''  Ye  ar'n't  thiukin'  ye  can  go  up  the  mountain  to- 
night ?  Darkness  '11  be  on  ye  before  ye  reach  the  top, 
and  ye'll  perish  there.  Go  home,  and  some  long  day 
bring  a  friend  with  ye.  Ye're  out  of  the  path  ;  the 
fowls  might  pick  yer  bones  upon  this  mountain,  and 
not  a  h'porth  be  haird  about  it."  This  looked  a  little 
discouraging,  and  I  sat  down  to  consider.  I  looked  up 
at  the  dizzy  height  above,  then  at  the  sun  ;  thought 
what  a  prospect  I  should  have  at  the  top,  of  the  beau- 
tiful islands,  the  sea,  and  the  lakes  under  my  feet  ;  and 
I  made  the  fruitless  effort  to  find  the  path.  It  was  a 
fearful  undertaking,  and  I  record  it  not  as  a  proof  of 
valor  or  wisdom  ;  it  was  the  height  of  folly,  if  not 
recklessness.  By  crawling  and  pulling,  a  little  was 
gained,  till  a-head  I  saw  a  white  track,  taking  a  cir- 
cuitous [route  around  a  smaller  mountain,  which  was 
to  lead  to  the  great  one  in  view.  I  reached  it  and  sat 
down ;  the  prospect  here  was  beautiful,  was  grand.  I 
solaced  my  eyes,  and  endeavored  to  make  up  my 
mind  that  this  would  answer  without  proceeding.  But 
this  could  not  satisfy  me.  I  was  in  Ireland,  on  the 
side  of  one  of  its  loftiest  and  most  celebrated  moun- 
tains, and  though  a  dangerous  ascent,  yet  younger  and 
older  feet  had  reached  the  top,  and  what  others  had 
done  I  could  do.  But  I  was  alone,  and  the  hour  was 
late.  What  if  some  joint  should  be  dislocated,  or  I 
should  stumble  and  go  headlong  ?  I  might  suffer  days, 
and  die  at  last  unheeded.  "  I  will  go  a  few  yards  more 
and  then  stop."  The  few  yards  were  attained.  I  sat 
down  and  said,  "  Am  I  tempting  my  Maker  .'"  A  little 
refreshed,  and  another  point  was  gained,  till  a  dizzy  and 
almost  perpendicular  steep,  with  white  round  stones  for 
a  path — which  had  been  washed  by  water  till  a  channel 
was  formed,  in  which  lay  these  stones — was  my  only 
road.  I  made  a  desperate  effort,  crawling  and  holding 
by  the  heath  where  1  could,  till  almost  exhausted,  I 


426  CO.  OF  MAYO.  [chap,  xxv. 

ventured  to  look  again,  and  saw  a  large  pile  of  stones 
upon  the  top,  and  knew  they  must  be  the  stations 
around  which  the  devotees  performed  their  penances. 
Another  eJQTort,  and  my  feet  stood  upon  the  grand  pin- 
nacle. 

The  first  sight  was  so  picturesque  and  dazzling,  I  sup- 
posed my  eyes  were  deceiving  me,  that  the  almost  su- 
pernatural exertion  had  dimmed  the  true  vision,  and 
false  images  were  flitting  before  them.  Not  so.  A 
true  map  of  the  most  beautiful  varied  finish  was  be- 
neath me.  Hundreds,  yes,  thousands  of  feet  below  me, 
were  spread  out  lakes  and  islands  in  the  ocean.  Fifty 
islands  I  counted  upon  my  right  hand,  bordered  with 
various  colors,  some  fringed  with  sand,  and  some  with 
gravel,  some  with  grass  reaching  to  the  water's  edge. 
On  the  left  was  the  bold  island  of  Clare,  looking  like 
some  proud  king  over  all  the  rest.  The  sun  was  shin- 
ing in  full  slendor,  giving  to  all  the  appearance 
of  a  fairy  land.  The  top  of  the  mountain  is  oblong, 
and  so  narrow,  that,  had  the  wind  been  violent,  1 
should  have  feared  that  I  could  not  retain  my  footing,  for 
the  descent  on  every  hand  was  almost  perpendicular. 
;  Here  is  an  ancient  pile  of  stones,  and  a  kind  of  altar, 
on  which  the  prints  of  St.  Patrick's  knees  are  shown, 
which  he'  wore  in  the  stone  by  constant  kneeling. 
Here,  by  some  mystical  virtue  or  power,  he  banished 
all  the  serpents ;  and  whether,  like  the  devils  which 
entered  into  the  herd  of  swine,  these  serpents  had  the 
privilege  of  entering  into  some  other  animals,  or  into 
men,  certain  it  is  that  they  do  not  show  themselves  in 
any  tangible  shape  in  Ireland.  The  sun  was  declining. 
I  sang,  and  called  to  the  inhabitants  below  ;  but  they 
neither  answered  nor  heard  me.  The  descent  was  now 
the  difiiculty.  There  was  another  and  safer  path  upon 
the  other  side,  but  this  I  did  not  know,  and  the  fright- 
ful road  was  undertaken.  One  misstep  of  my  slippery 
Indian  rubbers,  one  rolling  of  a  stone  upon  which  I  was 
obliged  to  step,  would  have  plunged  me  headlong. 
I  felt  my  dependence,  yet  my  nerve  was  steady.  I 
trembled  not,  nor  was  I  fearful ;  yet  I  felt  that  the  cau- 


CHAP.  XXV.]  CO.  OF  MAYO.  427 

tions  given  by  the  schoolmaster  and  others  near  the 
mountain  were  no  fictions.  The  sun  had  not  two  hours 
to  shine  upon  the  pinnacle,  and  I  on  its  slippery  side, 
nearly  three  miles  from  the  abode  of  men.  God's 
mercy  never  to  me  was  more  conspicuous  than  when  I 
found  myself  unhurt  at  the  bottom,  for  this  mercy  was 
shown  me  in  my  greatest  presumption.  I  was  not 
going  here  to  see  the  poor,  to  instruct  the  ignorant,  or 
to  do  good  to  any  child  of  want.  I  went  to  gratify 
a  desire  to  see  the  marvellous,  and  in  the  face  and 
eyes  of  all  kind  caution  to  the  contrary.  I  pray  God 
I  may  never  be  so  presumptuous  again.  When  I 
reached  the  cabin  where  the  boy  was  refused,  I  told  the 
mother  that  had  she  sent  him,  I  should  have  paid  him 
well ;  but  when  I  found  her  great  concern  for  my  safety 
was  only  to  make  a  shilling,  I  would  give  him  nothing. 
She  immediately  brought  forth  a  plate  of  potatoes  and  a 
fish  in  return  for  my  lecture,  without  a  reproachful 
word,  put  them  on  a  chair  before  me,  and  I  ate  a  pota- 
toe  and  went  home  to  Westport,  fatigued,  yet  happy 
that  I  had  seen  what  I  had,  and  had  accomplished  a  feat 
which  I  was  told  neither  man  nor  woman  could  accom- 
plish alone. 

The  next  day  a  fair  was  held  in  Westport.  Nothing 
new  or  interesting  marked  the  occasion.  The  people 
in  and  about  the  town  are  tolerably  tidy-looking  pea- 
santry, and  though  they  could  not  wholly  refrain  from 
staring  at  me,  yet  I  was  not  in  that  imminent  danger  of 
being  swallowed  alive,  that  seemed  to  threaten  me  in 
Galway.  Another  pleasant  call  at  Mr.  Smith's  made 
the  day  pass  profitably.  He  invited  me  into  his  place 
of  worship,  which  was  near  his  house,  and  while  there 
I  had  occasion  to  speak  of  a  clergyman  in  Dublin  who 
was  a  friend  of  Mr.  Smith,  and  from  whom  I  had  just 
received  a  letter.  I  read  the  letter  to  him  ;  he  seemed 
pleased,  as  if  a  doubt  had  been  loosened  but  not  remov- 
ed respecting  my  good  character  and  intentions.  Paus- 
ing a  moment,  he  said,  "  And  is  that  letter  from  my 
friend  ?  Let  me  seethe  handwriting."  He  took  a  letter 
from  the  same  clergyman  out  of  his  pocket-book,  com- 


428  CO.  OF  MAYO.  [chap.  xxv. 

pared  the  writing,  and  seeing  there  was  actually  no  for- 
gery, he  was  apparently  much  gratified. 

I  was  more  pleased  with  the  good  man  now  than  be- 
fore ;  for  though  he  had  not  intimated  by  a  word  that 
he  was  jealous  of  my  real  character,  nor  did  I  let  him 
know  that  I  understood  his  doubts  about  the  letter, 
yet  I  now  saw  he  had  been  vacillating ;  and  notwith- 
standing, had  he  known  me  to  be  a  saint,  he  could  not 
have  treated  me  more  kindly  in  word  and  action  than 
he  had-4one.  Though  his  Scotch  caution  whispered  that 
he  must  be  upon  tha  watch-tower  against  deceivers,  yet 
he  was  "  careful  to  entertain  strangers"  until  he  proved 
that  they  were  not  impostors. 

The  next  morning  I  had  hoped  to  visit  the  island  of 
Clare,  a  distance  of  fourteen  miles,  but  was  disappointed 
in  getting  a  boat,  and  turned  my  steps  through  a  beau- 
tiful wood  on  LordSligo's  estate.  Haifa  mile  took  me 
to  a  house,  out  of  which  came  a  mother,  two  daughters, 
and  a  grand-daughter  of  six  years  old.  This  child's 
mother  was  in  America,  and  had  been  gone  nearly  four 
years  ;  but  so  indelibly  fixed  was  the  mother  in  the  mind 
of  the  child,  that  every  woman  that  is  a  stranger  she 
hopes  may  be  the  one  she  ardently  desires  to  see. 
When  she  found  I  was  from  America,  it  was  affecting 
to  see  the  imploring  look  she  cast  upon  me.  The  mo- 
ther bade  her  daughter  to  accompany  me  through  the 
wood,  telling  the  grand-daughter  to  go  into  the  house. 
The  child  obeyed,  but  we  soon  heard  her  in  pursuit. 
She  plucked  the  bluebell  and  primrose,  and  presented 
them  to  me ;  broke  great  boughs  from  the  hawthorn, 
and  filled  my  hands ;  looking  with  such  a  winning 
confidence  into  my  face,  that  1  wished  her  away.  She 
followed  me  to  the  cabin  where  I  stopped,  and  for 
three  hours  sat  near  me ;  her  aunt  could  not  persuade 
her  to  return,  neither  could  I,  but  by  giving  her  a  look  ; 
and  then  she  lingered  and  looked  after  me  till  she 
could  see  me  no  more.  I  found  myself  surrounded  by 
a  group  of  listeners,  all  Protestants.  One  aged  man, 
who  had  renounced  Popery,  entered,  and  the  meekness 
of  his  appearance  distinguished  him  from  the  ordinary 


CHAP,  ixvi.]  CO.  OF  MAYO.  429 

Christian.  He  was  truly  "  meek  and  lowly."  I  pre- 
sented him  an  Irish  Testament,  which  he  could  read 
well,  and  he  received  it  with  the  greatest  gratitude. 
Reader,  he  was  a  beggar,  going  from  cabin  to  cabin  to 
ask  his  potatoe ;  one  of  the  members  of  Christ's  body, 
and  a  member  of  a  rich  Protestant  church !  Here 
was  Christ  presenting  himself;  and  they  all  recognised 
him  as  a  rare  example  ;  yet  they  sent  him,  poorly  clad, 
hungry,  and  weary,  from  door  to  door — asking  for  what  ? 
±\.  potatoe  !  Look  at  this,  ye  proud  professed  disciples 
of  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  say,  "  What  will  ye  do  in  the. 
end  thereof?" 

I  found  these  cabiners  warm-hearted,  and  a  tidy  in- 
dustrious people.  The  poor  widow  where  I  first  stop- 
ped supported  a  family  by  weaving,  working  from  sun 
to  sun  for  ten-pence  a  day  at  the  loom.  I  was  escorted 
through  the  neighborhood,  invited  to  stay  all  night, 
and  in  the  evening  read  to  both  Catholics  and  Protes- 
tants. The  hearing  of  the  ear  is  certainly  given  in 
these  places,  if  not  the  understanding  of  the  heart.  I 
blessed  God,  after  1  passed  away,  that  I  had  fresh 
proof  that  all  was  not  lost  that  was  done  for  these  poor 
people. 


CHAPTER  XXVL 

Sunday  Sermons— Newport— A.  Relic  of  Better  Days— Arrival  at  Achill  Sound, 
and  Kind  Reception  from  Mr.  Savage  and  his  Family — Visit  to  the  Colony — 
Mr.  J^angle's  Protestant  Missionary  Settlement— Molly  Vesey's  Lodgings- 
Visit  to  the  Schools  at  the  Colony— Walk  to  the  Keem  Mountains— A  Cente- 
narian—The Ameihyst  Quarries— The  Author's  Acknowledgments  and  Cen- 
sures Explained— Mr.  Nangle's  Weekday  Lecture— Interview  with  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Nangle — Doctrinal  Conversion  is  not  all  that  is  due  to  the  Convert  from 
Popery — A  Reformed  Roman  Catholic  Priest— Renewed  Hospitality  at  the 
Sound — Another  Short  Visit  to  the  Colony — Newport— Intemperance  not 
Banished  from  the  County  of  Mayo— Westport— Castlebar— Sligo— A  Beau- 
tiful Gem— Hospitality  in  Death— Picturesque  Scenery  of  the  County  of  Sligo 
— Return  to  Dublin — The  Mendicity  Association. 

Sabbath — I  heard  Mr.  Smith  preach  a  solemn  dis- 
course from  Peter,  ''  Seeing  that  all  these  things  must 
be  dissolved,"  &c.     He  invited  me  to  his  house,  and 


430  CO.  OF  MAYO.  [chap.  xxvi. 

gave  another  proof  that  he  obeyed  the  Apostle's  in- 
junction, "  Given  to  hospitality."  Heard  a  fluent  Der- 
byite  give  a  discourse  from,  "  Behold  the  Lamb  of  God." 
These  people  preach  Christ  in  a  clear  and  convincing 
manner,  and  show  that  they  have  been  taught  of  him. 

I  now  prepared  to  visit  Achill,  which  had  from 
my  first  visit  to  Ireland  been  the  spot  I  most  ardently 
desired  to  see.  I  had  heard  that  it  was  a  little  oasis, 
where  the  wilderness  had  been  converted  into  a  fruit- 
ful field.  I  walked  six  miles  to  Newport,  and  called 
/)n  the  Bible-reader  of  the  Independent  church,  and  by 
his  hospitable  wife  was  made  most  welcome.  A  break- 
fast was  soon  before  me,  and  an  invitation  to  stop  ;  but 
as  her  husband  was  absent,  I  engaged  on  my  return  to 
call  and  spend  a  night  with  them,  hoping  to  hear  more 
particulars  about  his  mission.  I  passed  on,  overtook  a 
poor  man  walking  slowly  with  a  pack  upon  his  back, 
and  said  to  him,  "  We  are  walking  the  same  way,  and 
you  look  in  ill  health."  He  was  cleanly  dressed,  and 
his  whole  appearance  said  he  had  seen  better  days. 
*'  I  am  palsied,  ma'am,  on  one  side,  and  can  move  but 
slowly."  His  history  was,  that  he  had  been  a  police- 
officer,  had  been  struck  with  the  palsy,  and  was  dumb 
for  three  months.  He  went  to  Scotland,  England,  and 
France  to  be  cured,  spent  all  he  had,  became  a  beggar, 
and  finally  by  teaching  had  been  able  to  purchase  a 
few  goods,  which  he  was  trying  to  sell  about  the  coun- 
try. He  was  a  Roman  Catholic,  and  said  he  always 
kept  a  Bible  till  he  was  palsied  ;  it  was  then  lost,  and 
he  had  not  been  able  to  buy  one  since.  He  added,  "  I 
am  a  sinner,  and  fear  I  shall  never  be  saved."  "  Go  to 
Jesus,"  was  my  reply.  His  ready  answer  was,  "  But  I 
must  go  in  faith,  and  how  shall  I  get  that  faith  f  I 
must  go,  nothing  doubting,  for  *  he  that  doubteth  is 
like  a  wave  of  the  sea.'  "  This  was  sound  doctrine, 
and  I  sent  up  a  hearty  petition  that  God  would  put  sui- 
table words  into  my  mouth,  to  speak  in  season  to  that 
inquiring  soul.  I  endeavored  to  do  so,  he  thanked 
me,  and  gave  an  interesting  recital  of  the  exercises  of 
his  mind  during  his  pickness,  and  since  he  was  able  to 


CHAP.  XXVI.]  CO.  OF  MAYO.  431 

move  again  upon  the  face  of  the  earth.  I  presented 
him  a  Testament.  He  took  it,  much  gratified,  and 
promised  to  read  it  daily  ;  he  had  already  been  en- 
lightened by  the  Holy  Spirit  into  many  of  its  truths, 
and  could  teach  many  who  had  read  it  much  more. 
He  walked  so  slowly  that  I  bade  him  good  morning, 
and  passed  on  to  stop  at  a  house  and  rest  a  little. 
While  there,  he  went  by,  and  we  fell  in  company  again, 
and  soon  overtook  a  tidily  dressed  woman,  who  was 
his  wife.  Again  we  talked  on  the  same  good  subject, 
but  the  mind  of  his  wife  was  still  in  darkness.  They 
left  me  at  a  poor  town,  I  supposed  for  ever,  and  1 
reached  the  Sound  at  eight  o'clock.  It  was  a  desired 
haven  for  my  weary  feet,  and  yet  I  dreaded  to  enter 
it.  I  looked  about  on  the  wild  shore,  to  ascertain 
where  I  should  find  shelter  if  not  received  at  the  hotel. 
I  saw  nothing,  and  made  an  ingress  in  the  only  door  I 
saw,  which  took  me  to  the  kitchen,  and  asked  a  little 
girl  if  I  could  have  entertainment.  She  could  not 
tell,  but  would  ask  the  mistress.  The  mistress  in  a 
moment  was  before  me ;  and  when  I  saw  her  uncom- 
monly tall  figure,  I  shrank ;  but  when  her  kindly 
soothing  voice  said,  "You  are  fatigued,  and  you  had 
better  walk  down  to  the  room,"  I  felt  it  was  the  voice 
of  a  friend.  In  this  room  were  no  pigs,  hens,  calves, 
or  goats.  It  was  a  well  ordered,  inviting  place  ;  an  air 
of  comfort,  health,  and  peace  said,  here  is  the  mother 
whose  daughters  shall  "  arise  up  and  call  her  blessed." 
Every  question  was  put  to  ascertain  my  wants ;  they 
inquired  not  the  strange  object  of  my  journey,  nor  my 
pedigree,  but,  "  What  can  we  do  to  make  you  most 
comfortable  .'"  O,  these  are  mercy  drops  to  a  lone 
stranger,  far,  far  from  home.  These  are  kindnesses 
which  Christ  will  remember  when  he  shall  say,  "  I 
was  a  stranger,  and  ye  took  me  in." 

A  fine  little  ruddy  boy  of  twelve  months  was  laugh- 
ing in  a  sister's  lap,  and  saying,  by  the  clapping  of  his 
tiny  hands  and  sparkling  of  his  eyes,  "  W^elcome,  wel- 
come, stranger."  This  boy  was  the  twenty-first  child 
of  that  mother,  all  in  the  dust  but  four  ;  three  lovely 


432  CO.  OF  MAYO.  [chap.  xxvi. 

daughters  moved  in  that  house  like  young  blossoms  of 
future  promise.  Gladly  would  I  have  stayed  for  weeks  ; 
but  when  two  nights  and  a  day  had  refreshed  my  weary 
limbs,  and  healed  a  little  my  irritated  feet,  I  looked 
across  the  Sound,  and  made  preparations  for  leaving 
their  comfortable  carpets,  cheerful  fires,  and  wholesome 
beds,  and  felt  that  I  was  leaving  home.  "  Go,"  said 
Mrs.  Savage,  "  and  stay  a  week  upon  the  island.  Visit 
the  schools,  and  the  cabins,  and  the  curiosities  of  the 
island,  and  you  will  be  well  paid.'' 

1  had  heard  much  of  the  indefatigable  Mr.  Nangle, 
and  wished  to  hear  from  his  own  lips  the  success  of 
his  mission,  his  sacrifices,  and  future  prospects.  1  had 
heard  that  a  fault-finding  tourist  had  been  that  way, 
and  carried  out  some  evil  reports  ;  and  I  had  heard 
that  persecutors  had  risen  up  around  him,  and  he 
sought  redress  by  the  arm  of  the  law.  Though  that  law 
gave  him  the  victory,  yet  some  few  lips  that  had  read 
the  gospel  whispered  that  "  carnal  weapons"  were 
never  fitted  for  the  missionary  of  the  cross.  I  had  heard 
that  the  benevolent  Dr.  Adams  had  left  all,  and  de- 
voted himself  unpaid  to  that  arduous  work,  and  that 
the  faithful  humble  curate  was  a  meek  pattern  of  hu- 
mility to  all  around  him.  On  him  I  was  requested  to 
call,  and  was  ofi"ered  a  note  to  him  from  Westport  for 
that  purpose.  These  difi"erent  items  made  up  the  sum 
total  of  information  I  had  gathered  about  A  chill,  and, 
putting  all  into  the  account,  my  impressions  were  more 
favorable  than  otherwise. 

At  an  early  hour  I  crossed  the  Sound,  intending  to 
walk  till  the  public  car  should  overtake  me.  I  entered 
the  colony  without  the  car,  and  inquired  for  Mr.  Lowe, 
the  curate.  He  was  not  at  home.  The  man  of  whom 
I  inquired  invited  me  into  his  house,  and  told  his  wife 
to  put  on  the  tea-kettle.  Telling  her  I  did  not  use 
tea,  she  presented  me  with  good  domestic  bread,  milk, 
and  potatoes.  When  the  dinner  was  finished,  I  was 
shown  into  the  dining-hall,  where  dinner  for  the  or- 
phans was  preparing.  Nearly  one  hundred,  I  was  told, 
were  here  fed,  clothed,  and  taught  to  read  and  work. 


CHAP.  XXVI.]  CO.  OF  MAYO.  43.3 

It  was  neat  and  inviting,  and  the  food  wliolesome  and 
abundant.  I  certainly  was  more  than  pleased.  I  was 
grateful  that  my  eyes  had  seen,  and  I  could  testify  for 
myself,  that  here  was  a  group  of  children  from  Ire- 
land's poor  that  needed  no  pity.  The  neat  white 
cabins,  and  the  colony  as  a  whole,  looked  to  me  at- 
tracting ;  a  barren  soil  had  been  converted  into  a  fruit- 
ful field  by  the  hand  of  industry.  It  was  now  nearly 
sunset,  and  lodging  must  be  found.  The  hotel  was 
not  quite  in  readiness,  and  no  private  lodgings  I  was 
told  were  in  the  colony,  and  I  was  directed  to  a  hill 
out  of  tlie  colony,  to  a  "  respectable  tidy  house  kept  by 
Molly  Vesey.''  I  walked  and  waded  through  deep 
sand  till  the  hill  was  ascended,  and  the  huts,  of  rough, 
stone,  flung  together  without  mortar,  without  gables, 
and  circular  at  the  top,  made  one  of  the  most  for- 
bidding looking  spots  that  I  had  ever  seen.  Winding 
among  the  huddled  kraals,  to  ascertain  whether  it  was 
possible  that  a  being  who  had  breathed  a  civilized  air 
could  tarry  there  for  a  night,  I  at  last  was  directed  to 
Molly  Vesey's.  As  I  looked  in,  "  And  is  this  in  truth 
the  tidy  lodging-house,  where  the  good  people  of  the 
colony  directed  a  stranger  to  lodge  ?  Is  this  the  do- 
micile where  the  thrifty  manager  has  gathered  two 
hundred  pounds,  and  put  it  in  safe  keeping  for  pos- 
terity .^"  A  cow  was  in  the  kitchen  ;  a  man  not  of  the 
"  finest  and  fairest"  was  smoking  in  a  corner ;  a  two 
pail-full  pot  was  boiling  a  supper  of  lumpers,  but  Molly 
was  nat  in.  I  sat  down,  and  she  soon  entered,  and 
making  my  wants  known,  I  was  invited  "  to  walk 
down."  Hope  revived — something  better  might  be  in 
reserve.  My  fate  was  fixed.  I  turned  my  eyes  upon 
the  frightful  bed  on  which  I  was  to  be  laid,  and  said, 
must  1  drink  this  bitter  cup  f  A  pile  of  stools,  bar- 
rels, and  such  like  etceteras,  with  a  long  table,  made 
up  the  furniture,  and  in  the  midst  of  this  I  was  seated. 
1  was  for  a  few  moments  in  a  profound  reverie.  And 
is  this  the  outer  porch  of  the  superb  temple  I  had  come 
to  visit  t  Surely  the  architect  must  have  a  few  mould- 
ings and  trimmings  yet  to  put  on  before  the  fabric  will 
19 


434  CO.  OF  MAYO.  [chap.  xxvi. 

be  quite  finished.  Mj  meditations  were  soon  broken 
by  Molly's  entering  with  a  feather  bed,  and  placing  it 
upon  a  bench  ;  the  long  table  was  drawn  into  a  cen- 
tral part  of  the  room,  a  chair  put  at  one  end,  and  a  half 
barrel  across  it  serving  two  purposes — to  lengthen  the 
table,  and  elevate  my  head.  Seeing  what  was  in  re- 
serve, I  asked,  "  What  are  you  doing  ?"  "  Making  you 
a  nice  bed,  ma'am."  "  Why  not  put  me  upon  the  bed- 
stead .^"  "  A  stranger  sleeps  there."  "  A  stranger  ! 
Who  is  this  stranger  .?"  "  A  nice  man,  ma'am."  This 
was  the  man  who  was  smoking  in  the  corner  when  I  en- 
tered. "  And  you  mean,  madam,  to  put  a  man  into 
this  room  to-night  .^"  ^'  What  harrum,  what  harrum  .^" 
My  indignation  was  aroused,  nor  did  it  settle  entirely 
on  the  head  of  Molly.  In  the  mouth  of  two  or  three 
witnesses  was  it  established  at  the  colony,  that  Molly 
Vesey  was  not  only  a  respectable  woman,  but  kept  a 
respectable  tidy  house  ;  and  yet  that  same  Molly  sold 
whiskey,  and  by  this  got  her  wealth.  Is  this  then  the 
standard  of  morality,  propriety,  and  tidiness  elevated 
by  the  colonists  for  strangers  to  gather  about  ?  Do 
you  ask  the  names  of  these  witnesses  ?  I  do  not  know, 
or  gladly  would  I  put  them  upon  this  paper.  *'  You 
may,  please,  carry  your  bed  away,  good  woman.  I 
shall  not  sleep  upon  it."  A  whisper  was  given  to  the 
girl,  and  then,  turning  to  me,  "  You  shall  sleep  on  the 
bedstead."  I  was  the  loser  on  the  score  of  cleanliness. 
Had  I  slept  upon  the  barrel,  1  might  have  had  a  clean 
cover  for  my  pillow  ;  but  I  had  the  room,  with  all  its 
indescribables,  to  my  own  independent  self,  and  in  the 
morning  awoke  to  a  brighter  view  of  what  appertained 
to  this  "  tidy  lodging-place."  A  plate  of  potatoes  was 
offered,  which  I  declined,  paid  for  my  accommodations, 
and  was  about  to  depart,  when  a  loquacious  teacher 
gave  me  a  few  new  ideas  and  proofs  of  the  merits  of 
the  Romish  church  ;  he  certainly  had  tact,  he  cer- 
tainly had  words,  and  he  certainly  knew  something  of 
the  history  of  both  the  Romish  and  Protestant  church. 
After  an  hour's  listening,  my  escape  was  effected, 
through  sand  and  difficulties,  to  the  neat  little  colony. 


CHAP,  xivi.]  CO.  OF  MAYO.  435 

Meeting  the  good  Dr.  Adams  near  his  own  door,  I 
inquired  if  they  had  no  better  accommodations  in  the 
colony  than  those  which  had  been  served  up  to  me  the 
preceding  night ;  that  I  regretted  that  they  had  no  more 
self-respect  than  to  send  a  stranger  there,  even  if  they 
had  no  Bible  knowledge  of  the  claims  of  a  stranger. 
I  then  asked  if  I  could  buy  a  piece  of  bread  in  the 
place,  and  was  answered  "  Not  any."  To  do  justice  to 
the  doctor,  he  said  to  the  friend  at  whose  house  I 
dined  the  preceding  day,  that  a  comfortable  place 
should  have  been  provided  for  me  to  lodge  ;  and  / 
should  not  have  been  shocked  at  his  Christian  benevo- 
lence had  he  given  me  a  breakfast  at  his  own  table. 
A  third,  who  was  standing  by,  said,  "  Mrs.  Barrett  has 
occasionally  sold  it ;"  and  the  other  then  kindly  invited 
me  to  his  house  for  a  breakfast ;  but  as  there  was  a 
little  probability  of  getting  bread  at  Mrs.  Barrett's, 
and  the  kind  man  had  given  me  a  dinner  the  day  be- 
fore, 1  declined,  went  to  Mrs.  Barrett's,  and  not  only 
bought  a  roll  and  got  a  breakfast  at  two  o'clock,  but 
was  offered  a  decent  bed  in  a  snug  little  room  without 
charges,  and  their  kindness  never  abated  while  I  was 
in  Achill.  After  breakfast  I  visited  the  infant-school. 
The  children,  who  were  orphans,  were  tolerable  in 
appearance,  though  the  dresses  of  some  needed  a  little 
repairing  ;  and  their  inattention  to  their  lessons  was  in 
agreement  with  the  management  of  the  teacher,  who 
certainly  did  not  take  her  diploma  in  the  University 
at  Glengariff,  where  the  schooldame  said,  ^'  I  teaches 
sewing,  ma'am,  and  they  gets  along  finely,"  for  there 
she  would  have  been  instructed  to  offer  strangers 
a  seat,  and  to  treat  them  with  a  little  civility. 
I  next  visited  the  female-school,  taught  by  a  young 
lady  from  Dublin ;  the  room  was  cleanly,  the  scholars 
the  same,  and  the  writing,  which  was  all  I  saw,  com- 
mendably  done,  and  the  teacher  somewhat  civil.  I 
then  entered  the  school  for  boys  ;  they  were  reading  a 
chapter  in  Acts,  and  the  teacher  requested  me  to  ex- 
amine them.  I  did  so  ;  they  answered  well,  and 
evinced  good  training,  and  the  teacher  showed  that  he 


436  CO.  OF  MAYO.  [chap.xxvi. 


was  not  afraid  to  be  decently  courteous.  I  now  felt 
myself  rising  a  little  in  the  scale  of  respectability  by 
these  three  steps  of  regular  advance,  and  returned  quite 
satisfied  with  my  afternoon's  visit.  Mr.  Barrett  re- 
quested me  to  give  him  any  letters  of  introduction  I 
might  have,  as  ho  wished  to  show  them  to  Mr.  Nangle. 
I  had  one  from  a  Protestant  clergyman  in  New  York  to 
a  gentleman  of  respectabilty  in  England,  a  friend  of 
Mr.  Nangle's.  I  had  a  second  from  good  authority, 
who  was  an  Editor  of  a  Christian  paper,  and  a  small 
religious  manuscript,  which  I  thought  of  getting  printed  : 
these  I  sent,  accompanied  by  a  note,  that  I  would  call 
when  I  returned  from  an  excursion  to  the  other  side  of 
the  island  in  a  day  or  two. 

A  laboring  man  belonging  to  the  colony  called  in 
the  evening,  and  hearing  that  I  wished  to  visit  the 
Keem  mountains,  offered  to  send  his  daughter  as  a 
guide,  adding,  "  You  are  not  to  pay  her.  I  know  what 
it  is  to  be  a  stranger  ;  you  have  come  a  great  distance 
to  see  our  country,  and  we  should  be  more  than  brutes 
not  to  treat  you  well."  This  was  a  mollifying  ointment 
indeed  ;  and  the  next  morning  the  cleanly  little  miss 
was  at  the  door  ;  we  had  not  proceeded  far,  when  the 
father  joined  us,  saying,  "I  was  afraid  my  little  gal 
wouldn't  rightly  understand  your  accent,  and  wouldn't 
well  show  you  what  you  want  to  see,  and  I  thought  I 
had  better  follow  you.'' 

Here  was  an  industrious  tradesman,  having  half-a- 
crown  a  day  for  labor,  leaving  this,  and  saying  at  the 
onset  he  would  not  take  a  farthing.  He  took  me 
through  an  ancient  village,  built  after  the  manner  of 
the  huts  where  I  lodged  above  the  colony,  with  no  roads 
but  foot-paths  ;  and  the  village  being  large,  we  were 
long  in  making  our  way  through.  As  we  entered,  a 
ragged  man  was  sitting  on  the  top  of  his  hut,  with  a 
company  of  as  ragged  children,  sunning  themselves ; 
and  seeing  a  stranger,  he  rose,  and  saluted  the  man  in 
Irish,  asking  who  I  was,  and  what  was  my  country. 
When  he  was  told  he  cried  out,  "  Welcome,  welcome 
to   Ireland,  twice  welcome."      His    children   then    all 


CHAP.  XXVI.]  CO.  OF  MAYO.  437 

echoed  the  same.  I  turned  over  the  wall,  and  gave 
them  my  hand,  and  as  well  as  I  could  returned  them 
my  thanks.  Never  could  be  seen  a  more  miserable 
group,  and  never  was  more  kind-heartedness  shown. 
As  we  passed  on,  the  whole  hamlet  was  in  motion ; 
those  not  in  the  way  managed  to  put  themselves  there. 
The  kind  salutations,  the  desire  to  know  everything 
about  America,  and  the  fear  that  I  was  hungry,  almost 
overpowered  me.  One  old  woman,  who  with  her  fin- 
gers told  me  she  was  three  score  and  fifteen,  whose 
teeth  were  all  sound,  and  her  cheeks  yet  red,  ap- 
proached, put  her  hand  upon  my  stomach,  made  a  sor- 
rowing face,  and  said  in  Irish,  "  She  is  hungry  ;  the 
stranger  is  hungry."  We  were  so  delayed  that  we 
feared  we  should  be  limited  in  time,  and  we  hurried 
on  a  couple  of  miles  to  another  village  of  the  same  de- 
scription, though  not  so  much  inhabited,  being  used  by 
the  inhabitants  of  the  first  as  a  kind  of  country-seat, 
common  stock  of  all  who  assemble  their  cattle  and 
sheep,  to  drive  them  upon  the  mountain  for  pasturage, 
to  fatten  them  at  a  favorable  season  of  the  year. 
There  were  but  a  few  now  in  it ;  but  walking  by  a 
number  of  deserted  huts,  we  came  to  one  where  sat  an 
old  woman  and  her  two  married  daughters,  by  the 
sunny  side  of  the  hut.  Asking  the  old  lady  her  age, 
she  put  up  her  fingers,  and  counted  five  score  ;  she 
asked  for  a  penny,  then  prayed  for  me  in  Irish,  and  I 
asked  her  if  she  wished  to  live  any  longer  ?  "  As  long 
as  God  wishes  me,"  was  the  answer.  "  Do  you  expect 
to  go  to  heaven.^"  "  By  God's  grace  I  do."  What 
could  be  more  consistent,  if  she  understood  the  import  .'* 
Keem  was  now  near.  This  mountain  descends  many 
hundred  feet,  nearly  perpendicular,  to  the  sea,  through 
which  is  made  a  road  about  midway,  and  the  pedes- 
trian may  look  up  to  the  top  of  the  dizzy  height,  or 
down  in  the  yawning  abyss,  as  his  nerves  may  best 
serve  him. 

Government  has  here  made  a  good  road,  for  the  sole 
purpose  of  giving  strangers,  as  well  as  countrymen, 
the  privilege  of  walking  through,  and   looking   upon 


438  CO.  OF  MAYO.  [chap.  xxvi. 

this  grand  height,  and  visiting  the  diamond  quarry  of 
amethysts  which  have  been  turned  to  very  profitable 
account  by  many  foreign  travellers.  I  gathered  a  few, 
and  while  standing  there,  a  native  from  a  village  of  the 
same  description  of  that  just  passed,  offered  a  splendid 
specimen  of  the  stone  for  a  few  shillings,  which 
I  foolishly  refused,  not  then  knowing  its  value.  I 
shall  not  soil  Mrs.  Hall's  pretty  sketch  of  this  moun- 
tain and  sea-view  by  attempting  a  description,  but  refer 
the  reader  to  the  description  itself,  and  return  back  to 
the  town,  as  a  four-mile  walk  is  before  us.  On  our 
return  we  meet  the  old  woman  of  five  score,  with  a  load 
of  turf  upon  her  back,  which  would  have  done  credit  to 
the  strength  of  a  woman  of  sixty.  The  villagers  greet- 
ed us  heartily,  and  were  anxious  to  make  more  in- 
quiries when  we  passed,  and  much  concerned  lest  I 
should  be  hungry.  As  we  approached  the  colony,  we 
called  at  the  house  of  an  old  Bible-reader,  who  had 
been  converted  from  Catholicism  more  than  twenty 
years  ago,  and  said  he  had  been  reading  the  Scriptures 
to  these  mountaineers  ever  since,  and  so  they  were 
without  excuse  if  they  did  not  know  the  way  of  life  and 
salvation.  We  passed  out,  and  the  man  who  accom- 
panied me  disappeared  without  giving  any  intimation, 
to  avoid,  as  I  have  ever  thought,  the  off'er  of  any  re- 
ward from  me.  Such  noble  disinterested  kindness  can- 
not be  forgotten.  Should  the  reader  be  led  to  think 
that  too  much  severity  is  manifested  towards  such  as 
have  been  unkind,  let  him  read  the  multiplied  acknow- 
ledgments of  favors,  and  then  taking  into  account, 
that  but  a  small  part  of  the  out-of-the-way,  uncalled- 
for  rudeness  and  unkindness  which  I  have  received  has 
been  recorded,  and  he  may  be  disposed  to  give  credit 
for  my  lenity.  Again,  those  which  are  recorded  have 
been  divested  in  most  cases  of  their  roughest  and  rudest 
deformities. 

The  next  afternoon  the  weekly  lecture  at  the  church 
in  the  colony  was  to  be  held,  and  I  inquired  if  any  one 
would  allow  me  to  accompany  him  or  her  to  the  place 
of  worship.     The   answer  was,  "  You   need   no   one  ; 


CHAP,  xxvl]  CO.  OF  MAYO.  m 

go  in,  and  there  is  a  woman  there  who  will  show  you 
a  seat."  Mr.  Barrett  accompanied  me  in  sight  of  the 
place ;  told  me  that  the  females  living  near  his  house, 
with  whom  I  had  often  conversed,  had  gone  in,  and 
he  and  his  family  could  not  attend  that  afternoon. 
This  was  all  legible  hand-writing,  easily  to  be  read. 
I  went,  saw  no  seat,  and  stood  till  every  person  except 
the  speaker  probably  might,  have  testified  to  the  color 
of  my  hair  and  eyes,  before  I  was  shown  a  seat.  At 
last  a  female  handed  me  a  stool  or  small  bench,  and  I 
took  a  seat,  not  far  distant  from  the  feet  of  the  preach- 
er. The  meeting  was  not  in  the  main  body  of  the 
church,  but  in  a  school-room.  The  room  was  cleanly, 
the  people  attentive,  the  sermon  not  faulty,  and  the 
females  dressed  tidily.  Mr.  Nangle  must  have  been 
apprised  of  the  object  of  my  visit,  as  I  had  sent  to 
him  either  by  note  or  by  a  member  of  his  church, 
that  I  wished  from  his  own  lips  to  get  a  sketch  at 
least  of  the  success  of  his  mission,  for  the  sole  bene- 
fit of  the  American  press,  as  it  would  be  an  object 
of  great  interest  to  us.  When  the  amen  was  pro- 
nounced, being  so  near  him,  the  assembly  not  large, 
and  the  room  not  a  public  one,  I  could  not  but  rea- 
sonably expect,  without  requiring  any  marked  atten- 
tions, that  he  would  give  me  a  nod  in  passing,  if  not 
stop  to  speak.  He  turned  quickly  about,  addressed 
a  lady  of  the  congregation,  and  I  waited  perhaps 
with  too  much  perseverance,  hoping  I  might  yet  speak 
to  him ;  till  so  many  had  retired  that  I  withdrew, 
without  a  word  being  spoken  by  an  individual,  but  not 
without  a  most  faithful  staring,  till  I  was  well  from  the 
door. 

Saturday  was  the  appointed  day  for  me  to  call  on 
Mr.  Nangle  for  my  letters,  and  I  went  with  strong 
hopes  that  I  should  through  them  get  access  to  him, 
and  acquire  the  desired  information.  1  went  to  the 
door ;  Mrs.  N.  refused  to  see  me,  unless  I  had  a  spe- 
cial message.  I  sent  word  that  I  had  called  for  papers 
which  Mr.  Nangle  had  of  mine.  ^'  Mr.  Nangle  is  in 
the   post-ofl&ce,    and   you   can   go    there,  the    mistress 


440  CO.  OF  MAYO.  [chap.  xxvi. 

says."  I  went  to  tlie  post-office.  Mr.  Nangle  said, 
"In  tliree-quartcrs  of  an  hour  I  will  see  you  at  my 
Louse. "  Before  I  readied  his  door,  the  nurse  with  an  in- 
fant in  her  arms  met  me  and  kindly  said,  "  Step  into  the 
next  shop,  and  when  Mr.  Nangle  comes  I  will  let  you 
know."*  To  that  nurse  I  am  for  eyer  obliged.  I  had 
no  sooner  entered,  than  a  company  were  gathered  about 
me,  and  without  preface  or  apology,  commenced  talk- 
ing of  the  merits  of  Ireland,  its  wealth,  especially  at 
Achill,  and  how  much  Americans  were  indebted  to  the 
Irish  ;  that  though  Ireland  had  the  appearance  of  po- 
verty, yet  she  was  quite  comfortable  and  independent, 
and  that  she  had  carried  much  money  to  America. 

I  had  only  time  to  answer  that  it  was  a  great  pity 
some  of  it  had  not  circulated  among  us,  either  for  their 
benefit  or  ours,  for  we  certairily  had  many  of  them  to 
support.  The  nurse  now  entered,  saying,  "  Mr.  Nan- 
gle has  returned,"  and  she  led  me  to  the  hall.  As  I 
passed  the  window,  two  or  three  young  misses,  the 
daughters  of  Mr.  Nangle,  were  looking  through  it, 
laughing  in  a  low,  vulgar  manner ;  and  I  was  after- 
wards informed  that  the  governess,  who  had  more  good 
breeding  than  influence,  rebuked  them  for  their  rude- 
ness, but  to  no  purpose.  The  nurse  left  me  seated  in 
the  hall,  and  Mr.  Nangle  showed  me  to  the  parlor,  and 
handed  me  my  letters  without  adding  a  word.  I  asked 
some  questions  about  the  colony.  In  a  few  words  he 
told  me  its  prosperity,  and  ended  by  saying  it  exceeded 
all  expectation. 

Having  seen  a  number  of  the  converts  who  had  fa- 
milies, and  could  not  read,  I  inquired  of  Mr.  N.  if 
they  had  Sabbath-schools  for  adults  ?  "  Not  to  teach 
them  to  read,  but  to  read  to  them,  and  instruct  them  in 
the  Scriptures."  Are  they  not  anxious  to  read  the 
Word  of  God  for  themselves  t  I  asked.  He  gave  me 
to  understand  that  it  would  be  a  difficult  task.  I  then 
for  encouragement  referred  him  to  a  New  York  adult 

^  This  nurse  afterwards  apologised  for  this,  by  saying  that  she 
did  it  to  save  me  the  pain  of  the  abuse  which  she  feared  I  might 
receive  in  the  house. 


CHAP.  XXVI.]  CO.  OF  MAYO.  441 

school  of  Irish,  where  many  of  the  ages  of  forty-five, 
fifty,  and  even  sixty,  had  been  taught  to  read.  I  was 
afterwards  told  that  this  was  considered  an  officious 
dictation,  as  though  he  was  incapable  of  managing  his 
own  affairs. 

A  female  now  entered,  whose  silent,  fixed  stare  and 
appearance  altogether  led  me  to  suppose  that  she  was 
some  upper  servant  in  the  house  ;  but  when  she  seated 
herself  opposite  to  me  at  the  table,  in  presence  of  Mr. 
Nangle,  her  eyes  still  fastened  on  me,  I  knew  that  no 
servant  would  do  this  in  a  parlor  in  presence  of  her 
master,  and  ventured  to  break  the  silence  by  asking, 
"  Is  this  Mrs.  Nangle  .^"  I  certainly  feared  that  an  in- 
dignity had  been  offered  Mr.  Nangle  by  this  question, 
but  the  answer,  with  its  rude  accompaniment,  told  me 
who  she  was,  and  my  own  insignificance  in  her  pre- 
sence. "  What  brought  you  here  .""  "  Did  you  mean, 
madam,  what  brought  me  to  Ireland,  or  what  brought 
me  to  Achill .?"  *'  What  brought  you  to  Achill  ?"  "  I 
came  to  see  the  colony,  and  to  hear  from  the  founders 
of  it,  its  progress  and  true  condition,  that  I  might  tell 
to  my  own  country  what  good  work  was  going  on  in 
this  remote  island  of  the  ocean."  ''  Let  me  tell  you 
that  you  came  on  very  improper  business."  Mr.  Nan- 
gle now  walked  silently  out.  Knowing  that  a  "  soft  an- 
swer turneth  away  wrath,"  and  that  the  Irish  heart 
settles  into  kindness  when  its  first  effervescence  has 
been  flung  off,  I  waited  a  little,  and  asked,  "  Is  not  the 
colony  free  of  access  to  all  strangers  P"*  "  Not  without 
letters,  madam." 

"  I  have  letters  in  my  hand  which  Mr.  Nangle  has 
had  ;  will  you  read  them  .?"  '^  I  can  read  them  if  you 
want  me  to  do  so."  "  I  do  not,  madam,  for  my  own  sake. 
I  have  not  the  least  anxiety  to  change  your  opinion 
concerning  myself."  ''  Do  you  not  think  the  Virgin 
Mary  can  do  more  for  you  than  anybody  else  ?"  The 
question,  with  the  tantalizing  manner  in  which  it  was 
put,  was  so  disgusting,  that  I  hesitated  whether  to 
answer.  I  had  never  before  been  tieated  by  any 
female  with  such  vulgarity  and  so  little  courtesy. 
19* 


442  CO.  OF  MAYO.  [chap.ixvi. 

I  answered  that  tlie  Virgin  Mary  could  do  no 
more  than  she  could,  if  she  had  the  spirit  of  Christ. 
The  question  was  repeated,  and  the  only  answer  I  gave 
was,  "  If  you  wish  to  read  my  letters,  here  they  are." 
She  read  one  from  a  Protestant  clergyman  ;  handed  it 
back,  saying,  "  This,  I  suppose,  is  from  a  Jesuit."  Tak- 
ing the  second,  she  read  it,  and  pushed  it  across  the 
table  without  speaking.  After  a  short  pause,  she 
added,  "  You  say  you  come  to  get  information  of  the 
colony,  and  I  should  say  you  come  to  ask  charity.'' 
^'  What  occasion  have  I  given  for  this  supposition  ? 
Have  I  asked  charity  ;  does  my  apparel  appear  im- 
proper, or  like  a  beggar  .^"  "  Your  dress  looks  well 
enough."  I  arose,  and  said,  "  Mrs.  Nangle,  if  these 
letters  be  true  I  would  ask  you,  as  you  profess  to  be 
a  Christian,  should  you  like  to  be  treated  as  you  have 
treated  me  in  your  parlor  this  morning,  or  have  your 
children  treated  thus  .'"  "  I  hope  my  children  will 
never  go  about  the  world  carrying  such  letters  as 
these." 

I  went  out.  The  nurse  was  waiting  at  the  door,  and 
asked,  "  How  were  you  treated  ?  Ah!  she  has  a  stony 
heart,  and  I  feared  she  would  abuse  you.  Smiles  are 
put  on,  good  dinners  got  up,  a  fine  story  told  of  the 
colony  when  the  quality  come,  while  the  poor  servants 
are  stinted  and  miserably  paid."  Though  1  could  have 
no  doubt  but  a  woman  so  unlady-like  and  unchristian 
in  her  conduct  as  she  had  been  that  day,  might  be  guilty 
of  all  this,  I  answered  only  by  saying,  "If  you  are  not 
treated  well,  why  not  go  away.^"  "  Because  I  can  get 
no  money  to  take  me  home." 

I  reached  ]\Ir.  Barrett's,  and  paused  upon  the  steps, 
and  though  T  could  not  see  the  whole  colony,  yet  enough 
was  in  sight  to  show  what  the  hand  of  industry  had 
done,  and  I  could  not  be  so  unjust  as  not  to  acknow- 
ledge heartily  that  much  has  been  done,  and  well  done, 
to  make  a  barren  waste  a  fruitful  field.  The  neat  white 
cottages  and  the  pleasant  road  made  a  striking  contrast 
with  the  hurdles  about  Molly  Vesey's,  and  the  paths 
around  her  domicile  ;  but  I  do  not  speak  sarcastically, 


CHAP.  XXVI.]  CO.  OP  MAYO.  443 


when  I  say  that  the  manners  of  the  people  in  the  shop 
where  I  waited,  and  in  the  parlor  of  Mr.  Nangle,  were 
not  in  so  good  keeping  with  Christian  refinement  as  were 
those  in   the   cabin   of  Molly.     Pity,  pity  that  Bible 
Christianity    should    ever    have  a  counterfeit  !      That 
Christianity,  which  possesses  such  a  life-giving  power, 
which  is  pure,  peaceable,  long-suffering,  condescendino*, 
disinterested,  forgiving,  given  to  hospitality,  self-deny- 
ing, kind,  and  courteous  to  strangers,  how  is  it  perverted 
by  ambitious,  proud  worldlings  in  every  generation !     I 
had  looked  into  the  cabins  of  many  of  the  converts  in 
Dingle  and  Achill,  and  though  their  feet  were  washed 
cleaner,  their  stools  scoured  whiter,  and  their  hearths 
swept  better  than  in  many  of  the  mountain  cabins,  yet 
their  eight  pence  a  day  will  never  put  shoes  upon  their 
feet,  convert  their  stools  into  chairs,  or  give  them  any 
better  broom  than  the  mountain  heath  for  sweepino-  their 
cabins.     It  will  never  give   them  the  palatable,  well- 
spread  board  around  which  their  masters  sit,  arid  which 
they  have   earned  for  them  by  their  scantily-paid  toil. 
These  converts,  turned  from  worshipping  images  to  the 
living  and  true  God,  as  they  are  told,  holding  a  Protes- 
tant prayer-book  in  their  hands  which  they  cannot  read, 
can  no  more   be  sure   that  this  religion,  inculcated  by 
proxy,  emanates  from  the  pure  Scriptures,  than  did  the 
prayer-book  which  they  held  in  their  hands  when  stand- 
ing before  a  Popish  altar.     They  must  be  in  the  same 
predicament  with  that  of  a  woman  in  America  who  had 
been  a  slave.     At  the  age  of  forty  she  gained  her  free- 
dom, went  into  a  free  state,  and  in  a  Sabbath-school 
there  learned  to  read  the  word  of  God.     One  day  she 
carried  her  Testament  to  the  superintendant,  asking  him 
to  show  her  the  chapter  beginning  with,  "  Servants,  be 
obedient  to  your  masters."     She  soon  returned,  and  in 
the  simplicity  of  her  heart  asked  if  all  the  Testaments 
are  alike.     She  was  told  they  were.     ^'  But  one  verse, 
the  last  in  the  chapter,"  she  added,  "  is  not  in  my  Tes- 
tament.    My  master  was  a  pious  man,  and  every  Sab- 
bath he  assembled  the   slaves  and  read  this  chapter  to 
us,  and  the  last  verse  was,   And  let  the  disobedient  ser- 
vant  be  ivhipped  till  his  back  is  sore .'" 


444  CO.  OF  MAYO.  [chap.  xxyi. 

But  I  have  stood  too  long  on  the  steps  of  Mr.  Bar- 
rett's door.  A  reformed  Roman  Catholic  priest,  attach- 
ed to  the  colony,  heard  that  I  had  visited  Mrs.  Nangle, 
and  called  to  inquire.  Knowing  that  we  cannot  ^'un- 
know  our  knowledge,"  and  that  if  he  had  been  a  Jesuit, 
he  could  not  forget  the  skill,  I  was  guarded.  His  well 
managed  questions  were  tolerably  evaded,  till  he  asked, 
"  How  did  Mrs.  Nangle  treat  you,  and  how  did  you  like 
her.^"  "She  treated  me,  I  believe,  just  as  she  felt^ 
and  I  ought  to  be  thankful  that  towards  me  she 
was  no  hypocrite."  His  answer  was,  ^'  There 
is  a  great  deal  of  religion  in  the  world,  but  a  very  little 
piety;  and  after  all,  probably  the  Mahometans  are  the 
true  church." 

I  had  thought  of  hearing  Mr.  Nangle  preach  the 
next  day,  but  at  that  moment  the  kind  Mrs.  Savage 
and  her  daughter  rode  up,  and  invited  me  to  take  a 
seat  on  her  car,  and  accompany  her  home.  This  was 
a  treat.  Her  well  ordered  house,  her  unaffected  polite- 
ness, proceeding  from  genuine  benevolence  of  hearty 
made  me  lose  the  feelings  of  a  stranger  by  her  com- 
fortable fire-side  and  table.  With  feelings  of  deep 
gratitude  do  I  record  the  kindness  of  Mr.  Barrett,  his 
wife,  and  children.  They  had  not  taken  their  prin- 
ciples or  practices  of  theology  in  the  colony.  They 
had,  I  trust,  learned  them  in  the  school  of  Christ, 
before  they  attached  themselves  to  Achill.  On  the 
car  was  a  Christian  gentleman  from  Castlebar,  a  man 
of  intelligence  and  kind  feeling,  who  was  spending  a 
few  days  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Savage.  He  was  ac- 
quainted with  the  colony,  and  bade  me  feel  no  regret 
at  the  treatment  I  had  received. 

Sabbath  morninc)^  a  company  of  children  assembled 
from  the  mountains,  at  Mr.  Savage's  house,  where  a 
piece  of  bread  was  given  them,  and  then  a  young 
daughter  of  the  family  took  them  into  a  shop,  and  in- 
structed them  in  reading  and  saying  lessons  in  the 
Bible.  It  was  a  pretty  sight  to  sec  so  many  children 
from  the  bogs  and  mountains,  listening  to  the  voice  of 
instruction  from  one  that  was  but  a  child  herself.     IMv 


CHAP.  XXVI.]  CO.  OF  MAYO.  445 

stay  on  tins  wild  beach  was  a  pleasant  one  ;  not  an  item 
was  wanting  to  make  the  guest  feel  like  a  member  of 
the  family. 

On  Tuesday  morning  I  returned  to  the  colony, 
to  get  a  few  articles  I  had  left,  and  to  take  a  letter  to 
the  office  I  had  written  to  Mrs.  Nangle,  the  true  copy 
of  which  is  now  in  my  hands,  and  should  this  be 
thought  too  severe,  that  may  appear  in  a  second  edi- 
tion. On  my  way  to  the  colony,  I  met  a  stranger 
returning  from  Achill  who  lived  in  the  country.  He 
had  some  years  since  become  a  convert  to  the  Bible, 
by  reading  and  meditating  upon  it,  and  in  a  few 
sentences  he  manifested  such  a  knowledge  of  his  own 
heart,  of  the  character  of  God  and  of  the  Scriptures, 
as  I  had  not  seen  in  any  person,  whether  learned  or 
unlearned.  He  was  taught  of  God,  emphatically. 
How  different  are  such  from  man-made  Christians ! 
A  girl  accompanied  me  a  mile,  who  talked  intelligibly 
on  the  Scriptures.  A  Baptist  man,  she  said,  had  some 
years  before  given  her  a  Bible,  and  she  was  well 
acquainted  with  it.  She  was  a  Catholic,  but  said  she 
intended  to  join  the  colonists,  for  the  sake  of  getting 
better  schooling,  and  being  more  cleanly :  I  advised 
her  to  do  so.  1  stopped  but  a  few  minutes  in  the  colony, 
and  saw  none  of  my  old  friends  but  the  family  where 
I  had  lodged.  Walking  back,  a  little  shower  sprinkled 
the  earth,  and  a  beautiful  rainbow  appeared.  A  pea- 
sant stopped  to  admire,  and  pointing  to  it  said,  "  A 
sign  !  a  sign  !''  He  could  speak  but  a  little  English, 
and  supposing  he  meant  the  promise  that  the  world 
should  not  be  drowned,  I  spoke  of  the  flood  ;  but  he  had 
never  heard  of  it,  and  gave  a  vacant  stare,  then  said, 
"  Rain,  rain  !"  He  was  old,  had  always  lived  on  that 
island,  and  never  knew  that  God  had  drowned  the 
world.* 

The  following  Friday  I  left,  with  regret  and  gra- 

*  Before  leaving  the  Sound,  the  palsied  man  and  his  wife 
called  to  go  to  the  island.  "  God  bless  you.  The  Testament  you 
gave  me  has  been  a  blessing  to  my  soul."  "  And  that  it  should," 
his  wife  remarked,  "  for  he  sits  up  in  his  bed  to  read  to  me  every 
night." 


446  CO.  OF  SLIGO.  .  [chap.xxvi. 

titude,  the  hospitable  family  at  the  Sound,  and  took  a 
car  for  Westpovt.  Stopped  at  Newport,  at  the  house 
of  Mr  Gibbon,  the  itinerant  and  Bible  reader,  and 
passed  the  time  pleasantly  till  Tuesday  with  his  family, 
and  the  kind  Christian  widow  Arthur,  who  kept  the 
post-office.  A  kind  of  romantic  charm  seems  flung 
about  Newport.  Sir  Richard  O'Donel  and  his  lady 
have  established  schools  on  liberal  principles.  The 
lady  herself  teaches  two  or  three  days  in  a  week,  and 
Sir  Richard  has  an  admirably  well  fitted  school-room, 
where  he  teaches  a  Sabbath-school  himself.  The  effects 
of  a  fair  on  Monday  night  showed  that  Ireland  is  not 
emancipated  from  the  effects  of  whiskey.  Rioting  and 
fighting  lasted  through  the  night,  and  in  the  morning 
many  an  inebriate  was  staggering  home  to  his  family.  I 
walked  to  Westport  with  the  peasantry,  and  at  six  in 
the  morning  was  on  a  car  for  Castlebar.  Called  a  few 
moments  on  a  Baptist  minister  there,  who  presented  me 
with  a  bundle  of  tracts,  which  were  quite  too  sectarian 
to  suit  my  purposes  in  visiting  Ireland. 

I  stopped  at  a  hotel  in  Sligo,  stayed  twenty-four 
hours,  and  saw  almost  the  whole  town.  Took  a  morn- 
ing walk  three  miles  from  my  lodgings  to  the  most 
beautiful  glen  I  had  met,  in  some  particulars.  The 
peasants  were  so  desirous  to  talk  with  me  on  America, 
that  I  was  three  hours  going  three  miles.  An  avenue, 
entered  by  a  gate,  leads  to  the  cottage,  where  lives 
Mr.  Nicholson,  the  proprietor  ;  supposing  it  might  be 
the  breakfast  hour,  I  sat  down  on  a  rustic  seat,  with 
the  sea  at  my  left  and  the  glen  at  my  right ;  and  hear- 
ing the  sound  of  a  hammer,  I  entered  the  glen,  and 
was  accosted  by  a  company  of  laborers  breaking  stones. 
''  Good  morrow  kindly,  and  ye're  takin'  the  pleasantest 
walk  in  all  Ireland.  There's  not  sich  a  glen  in  all  the 
kingdom  ;  and  sure  ye  didn't  come  alone.  Well  !  no 
harm  'ill  befal  ye  here,  and  the  master  has  all  free  to 
everyone  here."  "  You've  a  good  master,  I  hope  ;  one 
who  pays  you  well."  "  And  that  he  does."  "  What 
docs  he  give.?"  "  Eightpence  a  day."  "And  you 
eat  your  own  potatoes  .?"  "  Yes,  we  aits  our  own  po- 
tatoe,  when  we  git  enough  of  that  same."     I  find  in  all 


CHAP.  XXVI.]  CO.  OF  SLIGO.  447 

Ireland  the  laboring  classes,  wlien  I  first  speak  to  them, 
are  ever  praising  their  master.  Just  as  in  America, 
although  the  slaves  may  be  often  under  the  lash 
or  in  the  stocks,  yet  to  a  stranger  they  durst  not 
speak  out,  lest  some  "  bird  of  the  air  should  tell  the 
matter;"  so  the  peasantry  of  Ireland  are  in  such  suffer- 
ing, that  lest  they  should  lose  the  sixpence  or  eight- 
pence  they  occasionally  get  while  employed,  they  will 
make  an  imperious  landlord  an  angel  to  a  stranger. 

*'  Wili  ye  walk  through  the  glen,  ma'am  .^"  A  road 
cf  comfortable  width,  richly  bordered  with  wild  flowers 
for  three-quarters  of  a  mile  from  the  cottage,  opens  to 
the  eye  a  rare  treat  of  wonder.  A  wall  of  stone  rising 
above  the  head,  upon  each  side,  as  smooth  as  if  sawed, 
and  appearing  as  if  once  united,  overhung  with  rich 
foliage,  especially  the  ivy,  which  in  rich  fantastical 
testoons  is  hanging  and  twining  in  every  part  ;  and 
upon  one  side  a  part  of  the  wall  seems  set  aside  for 
more  favored  ornament,  having  a  curtain  of  ivy,  knot- 
ted at  top  in  the  centre,  as  if  over  a  window,  then 
running  on  either  hand  a  distance  of  three  yards,  it 
falls  gracefully  down  upon  the  wall,  gradually  coming 
to  a  point  as  if  trimmed  with  shears.  Between  these 
graceful  hangings  the  wall  is  entirely  smooth,  and 
water  is  continually  percolating  down  its  surface, 
giving  a  monotonous  murmur  in  the  stillness  of  the 
glen.  As  I  gazed,  supposing  the  skill  of  the  gardener 
had  arranged  this  unparalleled  ivy  curtain,  and  clus- 
tered these  knots  upon  the  top,  which  were  three  in 
number,  a  peasant  approached,  "  Good  morrow  kindly, 
ma'am;  and  did  ye  come  far  in  the  glen.?"  I  an- 
swered, "  I  am  fixed  to  this  spot.  The  gardener  must 
possess  exquisite  skill  to  have  fitted  upon  a  wall  such 
drapery  as  this  !"  "  The  hand  of  the  mighty  God, 
ma'am.  Nothin'  else  that  planted  it  there — no  gar- 
dener has  ever  touched  a  hap'orth,  ma'am,  not  a 
ha'porth."  "  And  what  a  mighty  God  must  the  maker 
of  all  this  be  !  What  will  become  of  you  and  me,  sir, 
when  these  rocks  shall  be  melted,  and  these  mountains 
around  us  flee  away  .?"  '*  Ah  !  that's  true  for  ye,  ma'am, 
I've  often  haird  this  world's  to  be  burnt  some  day  or 


448  CO.  OF  SLIGO.  [chap.  xxvi. 

other.  That's  true,  God  help  us."  I  was  left  alone, 
fixed  in  admiration  for  a  time  ;  then  walked  on  till  a 
gate  and  wall  told  me  the  glen  was  terminated.  Re- 
turned, and  took  a  second  view  of  the  enchanted  spot. 

Reaching  the  cottage,  1  was  met  and  welcomed  by 
a  man  grown  grey,  and  a  cripple.  But  a  young 
wife,  just  out  of  her  teens,  pleasantly  invited  me  into 
her  fairy  parlor  and  ante-room,  and  then  said,  "  You 
will  have  some  breakfast — the  long  walk  must  have 
given  you  an  appetite."  Brown  bread  and  milk  were 
placed  before  me,  and  while  partaking  it,  she  told  me 
that  three  weeks  ago,  she  had  buried  the  best  of  fathers, 
at  the  advanced  age  of  ninety  ;  but  his  intellectual 
faculties  brightened  as  his  body  decayed,  especially  his 
religious  views ;  that  his  hospitality,  for  which  he  had 
ever  been  celebrated,  was  manifested  at  the  last  dying 
moment.  A  friend  had  entered  to  see  him  die.  He 
beckoned  his  daughter  to  the  bed,  and  inquired,  "  What 
is  preparing  for  dinner  ?  This  kind  friend  has  come  in 
to  see  me  die,  and  something  nice  must  be  placed  before 
him."  These  were  his  last  words.  His  mantle  had 
fallen  upon  his  daughter.  The  law  of  kindness  was 
on  her  tongue.  On  my  way  to  town,  the  peasants  so 
detained  me  by  inquiring  about  America,  and  what  I 
thought  of  Ireland,  that  I  had  to  make  much  haste  on 
reaching  the  hotel,  to  be  in  time  for  the  boat  at  three. 
I  regretted  leaving  Sligo  so  soon.  Such  ready  access  to 
all  classes  was  not  usual,  and  I  should  have  been  much 
gratified  by  availing  myself  profitably  of  it.  The  beau- 
tiful and  novel  Bay  of  Sligo  made  me  forget  all  else. 
Nothing  but  the  Blackwater  could  equal  it,  and  that 
could  not  boast  such  picturesque  mountains.  Here  arc 
ijiuuntaius  of  rock,  standing  out  in  circular  shape,  with 
the  appearance  of  pillars,  as  if  hewn  by  an  architect ; 
others,  like  a  box,  with  a  cover  shut  over  it,  and  the 
edges  of  this  cover  plaited.  This  singular  appearance  of 
rock  and  mountain  continued  for  several  miles  ;  while 
the  little  islands  in  the  river,  the  green  meadows,  and 
tasteful  demesnes  upon  the  border,  made  an  indescriba- 
ble treat  as  the  sun  was  setting. 

We  reached  the  termination  of  the  route  at  nine 


CHAP.  XXVI.]  DUBLIN.  44» 

o'clock,  and  found  an  expensive  lodging  house,  as  it 
was  crowded  on  account  of  the  assizes.  My  next  day's 
ride  on  the  top  of  a  coach  was  eighty-one  miles  to 
Dublin,  some  part  of  it  romantic.  The  sea-coast  was 
rocky  and  wild,  and  presented  little  that  was  inviting 
for  the  abode  of  man.  The  road  took  us  through  a 
part  of  Leitrim,  Westmeath,  and  Longford.  At  the  lat- 
ter place,  while  waiting  for  a  change  of  horses,  the  beg- 
gars seemed  to  have  rallied  all  their  forces,  followed  by  the 
rags  and  tatters  of  the  town,  who  surrounded  the  coach  to 
hear  from  America.  I  answered  the  beggars,  that  I  had 
nothing  but  books  to  give.  A  truce  for  a  moment  suc- 
ceeded, when  a  clamor  for  books  was  set  up,  similar  to 
the  one  on  the  island  of  Omey.  Giving  them  some 
tracts,  all  commenced  reading,  when  one  cried  out  that 
they  said  nothing  of  the  Blessed  Virgin,  and  immedi- 
ately one  was  torn  in  small  pieces,  and  thrown  upon  my 
lap.  The  crowd  had  become  quite  numerous,  and  the 
clamor  boisterous.  Two  or  three  more  tracts  were  torn, 
and  thrown  into  the  air  or  upon  the  coach.  Asking  if 
they  thought  the  Virgin  was  looking  upon  them,  "  Yes, 
yes,"  was  echoed  and  re-echoed.  "  How  do  you  think 
she  is  pleased  with  the  disrespect  you  have  paid  her 
Son .''  Those  books,  which  you  have  torn,  are  his 
words,  and  you  have  despised  them,  and  torn  them  in 
pieces."  All  for  a  minute  were  silent ;  every  laugh  was 
changed  into  a  look  of  sorrow.  "  In  truth,"  said  one. 
"  we  have  done  wrong  ;  we  did  not  know  it  ;  and  ye 
are  right,  ma'am,  and  we  are  sorry."  A  few  words  were 
said  on  their  lost  condition  if  out  of  Christ,  and  they 
listened  with  most  respectful  silence,  and  walked 
quietly  away. 

The  long  ride  to  Dublin  terminated  at  eight  o'clock, 
and  though  I  knew  it  was  not  my  own  fire-side  that  I 
was  approaching,  yet  the  same  kind  greeting  and  wel- 
come at  the  home  I  had  left,  made  me  feel  that  though 
in  a  land  of  strangers,  I  was  not  in  a  family  that 
could  not  reciprocate  my  wants,  if  not  my  feelings,  and 
do  all  in  their  power  to  make  me  comfortable.  I 
spent  a  few  pleasant  weeks  in  Dublin,  visiting  public 
institutions.     The  Academy  of  Painters  was  a  place  of 


450  DUBLIN.  [chap.  xxvi. 

interest,  because  so  many  proofs  are  there  given  that 
Ireland  spares  no  expense  in  perpetuating  the  virtues 
and  talents  of  her  sons.  With  my  first  and  constant 
friend  Miss  H.  I  went  to  the  Mendicity  ;  and  to  a 
tourist  this  institution  is  one  of  no  small  interest.  Pau- 
pers assemble  here  in  the  morning,  and  stay  tiH  six  at 
night,  and  get  two  meals  for  picking  oakum.  The  break- 
fast is  stirabout  ;  the  dinner,  potatoes  and  some  kind  of 
herbage  pounded  together,  well  peppered,  put  into  bar- 
rels, shovelled  out  into  black  tins,  and  set  out  upon  the 
floor.*'  Here  they  sit  upon  the  dirty  boards,  and  eat, 
some  with  spoons  and  some  with  their  fingers.  It  was  a 
most  disgusting  sight.  The  crowd  was  immense.  Never 
had  I  seen  so  much  filth  embodied  in  one  mass,  with  so 
many  ugly,  forlorn,  and  loathsome  faces.  They  seemed 
to  be  the  "  odds  and  ends"  of  the  workmanship  of 
ages,  flung  together  into  this  pile,  as  offal  that  had 
been  picked  and  culled,  torn  and  shaken,  till  all  that 
could  be  used  had  been  worked  up.  We  turned  from 
the  forbidding  sight  into  the  school-room,  where  the 
children  of  these  woe-begone  parents  were  assembled 
for  instruction  ;  and  here  a  war  was  in  progress,  be- 
tween the  mistress  and  a  woman  who  had  entered  de- 
manding the  services  of  a  scholar.  The  mistress  re- 
fused, and  the  fight  became  so  serious  that  I  begged  the 
overseer  to  take  the  case  in  hand.  He  declined,  and 
the  battle  ended  in  favor  of  the  mistress.  This  Mendi- 
city does  this  :  it  keeps  many  from  actual  starvation, 
and  is  a  tolerable  quietus  to  the  penurious,  who  would 
rather  see  a  fellow-being  metamorphosed  into  a  brute, 
than  lighten  their  purses. 

Who  could  look  on  a  sight  like  this  without  asking, 
what  political  economy  could  produce  such  a  picture  of 
God's  best  and  noblest  workmanship  ?  What  fountain 
but  the  stagnant  Lake  of  Sodom  could  send  forth 
streams  like  these  ?  Where  is  the  somebody  that  has 
done  all  this,  and  what  is  his  name  and  genealogy  ; 
Bring  him  out,  if  he  can  be  traced,  in  the  face  of  the 
congregation — yes,  in  the  face  of  high  heaven.  Let 
him    be  examined  before  the  judges,  and  if  he  cannot 

'  I  did  not  then  see  any  tables,  though  they  have  them  now. 


CHAP.  XXVII.]  CONCLUSION.  451 

answer  for  this  his  strange  work,  send  him  away  ;  let 
him  hide  his  face  for  ever  from  the  face  of  man.  If  it 
be  voluntary  idleness,  pay  the  culprit  no  premium  for 
sloth  and  filth.  "  He  that  will  not  work  shall  not  eat," 
should  be  the  stereotyped  motto  while  seed-time  and 
harvest  remain.  But  if  his  idleness  be,  because  no  man 
hath  hired  him  ;  if  his  rags  be  the  remuneration  for  days 
of  faithful  toil  ;  if  there  be  a  watchman  on  Judah's  tow- 
ers, a  nobleman,  a  husbandman,  a  shopkeeper,  who  has 
defrauded  this  poor  man  of  his  wages,  who  has  kept 
back  part  of  the  price  that  he  should  give,  let  him  see 
to  it,  and  let  him  see  to  it  in  season  ;  for  God,  be  as- 
sured, is  a  correct  accountant.  Not  a  figure  will  be 
added  or  subtracted  wrong.  Not  an  injured  poor 
man  will  cry  to  him  for  redress,  but  that  cry  will  be 
heard.  Not  a  forbidding  mendicant,  who  here  has  his 
food  flung  out  to  him  as  though  he  were  a  dog  or  an  ass, 
but  has  his  cause  registered  in  the  high  court  of  heaven, 
and  the  immaculate  Lamb  of  God  is  his  pleader.  And 
that  Pleader  never  practised,  and  never  acknowledged 
any  benevolence  but  a  self-denying  one,  and  paid  no 
honor  to  any  station  but  honest  poverty.  "  He  took 
on  him  the  form  of  a  servant."  Was  this,  I  ask,  dis- 
gracing poverty  .? 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

Mr.  Nannie's  Notice  in  the  Achill  Herald,  of  the  Author's  Visit  to  the  Settle- 
ment— Remarks  upon  this  Document  and  the  motives  which  probably  dic- 
tated it — Concluding  Observations  relative  to  the  objects  of  the  Writer's 
Tour  in  Ireland,  and  the  Reception  she  met  with  from  various  Classes  of  the 
Community. 

It  was  in  the  month  of  July,  1845,  about  six  weeks 
after  my  return  from  Achill,  that  I  was  presented,  in 
the  Tract  Depository,  Sackville-street,  Dublin,  with 
an  article  to  read  in  the  Achill  Herald,  which  I  take 
leave' to  insert  in  this  volume  as  one  which  should  be 
preserved.  Any  document  that  is  worth  reading  once  is 
worth  reading  twice.  As  this  was  written  by  a  valued 
man,  and  inserted  in  a  valuable  paper,  and  as  newspa- 


452  CONCLUSION.  [chap.xxvii. 

pers  are  liable  to  be  mislaid  and  torn,  I  call  it  again 
from  its  repose  of  two  years,  that  the  thousands  of  sub- 
scribers who  read  the  Achill  Herald  may,  if  they  will 
condescend  to  do  so,  have  their  minds  refreshed  by  what 
was  once  thought  a  matter  of  deep  interest  to  the  reli- 
gious community : — 

"  During  the  last  month,  this  settlement  was  visited 
by  a  female  who  is  travelling  through  the  country.  (We 
have  traced  her  from  Dingle  to  this  place.)  She  lodges 
with  the  peasantry,  and  alleges  that  her  object  is  to 
become  acquainted  with  the  Irish  character  ;  she  states 
that  she  has  come  from  America  for  this  purpose.  She 
produced  a  letter  purporting  to  be  addressed  by  a  cor- 
respondent in  America  to  a  respectable  person  in  Bir- 
mingham '*  but  in  answer  to  a  communication  addressed 
by  the  writer  to  that  individual,  he  stated  that  he  has 
no  acquaintance  with  her,  either  personal  or  by  letter. 

"  This  stranger  is  evidently  a  person  of  some  talent 
and  education  ;  and  although  the  singular  course  which 
she  pursues  is  utterly  at  variance  with  the  modesty  and 
retiredness  to  which  the  Bible  gives  a  prominent  place 
in  its  delineation  of  a  virtuous  female,  she  professes  to 
have  no  ordinary  regard  for  the  Holy  Book.  It  appears 
to  us  that  the  principal  object  of  this  woman's  mission 
is  to  create  a  spirit  of  discontent  among  the  lower  or- 
ders, and  to  dispose  them  to  regard  their  superiors  as 
so  many  unfeeling  oppressors.  There  is  nothing  in  her 
conduct  or  conversation  to  justify  the  supposition  of  in- 
sanity, and  we  strongly  suspect  she  is  the  emissary 
of  some  democratic  and  revolutionary  society." 

In  publishing  this  document,  the  writer  acted  as  his 
views  of  worldly  policy  suggested,  in  the  circumstances 
in  which  he  was  placed  by  his  conduct  towards  me.  A 
stranger  came  from  a  far  country  to  visit  the  colony, 
and  came  with  the  best  intentions.  These  intentions 
had  been  made  known  to  Mr.  Nangle  in  a  suitable 
manner  :   but  the  stran^-er  was  sent  out  to  lodg-e  in  a 

'  o  o 

*  The  individual  here  referred  to  is  Mr.  Joseph  Slurg-e  of  Bir- 
mingham, who  had  not  seen  the  letfer  referred  to  by  Mr.  Nangle  at 
the  time  of  my  visit  to  Achill.  He  has  since  not  only  acknow- 
ledged the  receipt  of  this  letter,  but  has  very  kindly  intrusted  me 
with  money  for  the  relief  of  the  Irish  poor. 


CHAP.  XXVII.]  CONCLUSION. 


most  improper  place,  and  this  place  was  recommended 
by  his  people.  In  his  own  parlor,  into  which  he  had 
invited  his  visitor,  he  allowed  her  to  be  treated,  I  will 
not  merely  say  uncivilly^  but  degradingly  and  wickedly. 
I  subsequently  wrote  to  Mrs.  Nangle,  speaking  plainly, 
unsparingly,  and  conscientiously,  on  the  responsibilities 
of  her  station,  informing  her  that  my  visit  to  the  colony 
would  make  an  interesting  page  in  my  published  journal. 
What  could  Mr.  Nangle  do  under  these  circumstances, 
but  acknowledge  the  error  of  his  conduct  towards  me, 
or  advertise  the  public  in  season  to  beware  of  the  scru- 
tinizing democrat,  whose  virtues,  according  to  Solomon's 
ideas,  are  much  to  be  doubted  }  I  make  no  apology  to 
Mr.  NanglCj  I  make  none  to  the  public,  for  visiting 
Achill,  and  visiting  it  as  I  did.  I  had  a  national  right, 
a  civil  and  religious  one  to  do  so,  either  with  or  without 
letters,  as  long  as  my  conduct  was  proper.  This  city 
set  upon  a  hill,  by  the  bounty  of  the  religious  word, 
and  the  labors  of  those  who  inhabit  it,  says  to  all  the 
world,  "  Come  and  see  our  zeal  for  the  Lord.''  And  if 
there  be  not  some  Sanctum  Sanctorum  for  the  priests 
alone  to  enter,  some  Holy  Inquisition  where  heretics  are 
to  be  tried  and  condemned,  then  who  can  be  justly  pro- 
hibited from  going  about  its  walls,  and  telling  the 
towers  of  this  Zion  } 

In  conclusion  I  would  say,  that  though  Ireland's 
Welcome  has  some  dark  shades,  yet  these  only  serve 
to  give  light  and  life  to  the  picture.  Had  my  recep- 
tion among  the  higher  and  middle  ranks  been  as  Cbris- 
tian-like  and  as  civil  as  among  the  poor,  it  would  have 
been  one  monotonous  tissue,  which  might  have  spread 
a  false  coloring  before  my  eyes,  so  that  her  true  cha- 
racter would  have  been  hidden.  Had  all  men  spoken 
well  of  me,  had  all  treated  me  kindly,  the  woe  of  Christ 
must  have  been  mine,  and  I  might  have  been  an  idler 
in  my  Master's  vineyard.  They  have  done  me  good  ; 
and  to  all  who  have  so  little  understood  the  true  prin- 
ciples of  gospel  self-denial  and  gospel  kindness  towards 
the  poor,'"as  to  censure  the  course  I  have  taken,  they 
should  be  pitied,  they  should  be  prayed  for,  they  should 
be  forgiven,  and  be  assured  that  by  me  they  are  for- 


454  CONCLUSION.  [chap,  xxvii. 

given.  And  happy  should  I  be  to  testify  my  forgive- 
ness in  my  own  country,  and  by  my  own  fireside,  and  at 
my  own  table,  should  these  comforts  ever  again  be 
mine.  America,  faulty  as  she  may  be,  will  extend  the 
cordial  hand  to  the  Irish  stranger  ;  and  if  he  be  poor, 
she  will  give  him  bread  and  clothing  ;  she  will  pay  him 
for  his  toil,  and  will  allow  him  to  stand  erect,  and  call 
himself  a  man.  I  speak  of  Free  America.  With  the 
oppressors  of  the  South  I  have  no  sympathy.  I  have 
often  been  tauntingly  asked,  "  Why  do  you  not  labor 
for  the  slaves  in  your  own  country  ?"  I  answer,  "  I 
have  done  so,  and  it  was  a  strong  inducement  to  bring 
me  to  Ireland.  I  saw  the  most  of  your  nation  who 
land  upon  our  shores  are  not  only  destitute,  but  igno- 
rant of  letters,  and  crouching  and  servile  till  they  get 
power,  and  in  all  these  lineaments  bear  a  good  compa- 
rison with  our  slaves."  And  I  could  not  but  ask, 
What  but  oppression  could  produce  this  similitude  .'* 
And  painful  as  is  the  fact,  yet  it  must  be  told  of  the 
Irish  in  America,  too  many,  quite  too  many  strengthen 
the  hands  of  the  avaricious  oppressor,  and  help  him  to 
bind  the  chains  tighter  about  the  poor  black  man ; 
and  I  came  to  entreat  you  to  show  your  people  a  better 
way.  I  came  to  beg  you  to  help  us  knock  off  our 
fetters,  by  sending  a  more  enlightened  and  free  people 
among  us,  who  cannot  be  bribed  by  flattery  or  money. 
But  who  shall  teach  them  these  noble  lessons  ?  For 
while  I  have  seen  the  same  jealousy,  the  same  Jesuiti- 
cal caution,  and  a  greater  unkindness  in  many  cases 
exercised  towards  me  by  masters  in  Ireland,  than  by 
slaveholders  in  the  American  Slave  States,  how  can 
I  hope  better  things  till  better  principles  get  possession 
of  the  heart  ?  Let  not  these  remarks  be  misunderstood  ; 
let  them  not  be  misconstrued ;  I  apeak  not  of  all  Ire- 
land. There  are  noble  hearts  in  the  Emerald  Isle, 
who]|do  not  practise  oppression ;  but  I  speak  to  the  guilty, 
and  let  them  hear.  I  was  a  friend  to  Ireland,  before  I 
left  home.  I  have  remained  her  friend  here,  and  shall 
return,  if  possible,  still  more  so.  Yes,  though  much 
of  the  painful  toil  might  have  been  spared,  and  my 
means  of  doing  good  been  greatly  enlarged,  had  those 


CHAP.  XXVII.]  CONCLUSION.  455 

^ t £ 

who  had  it  in  their  power  received  and  treated  me  more 
kindly ;  yet  it  has  not  loosened  one  cord  that  tied  my 
heart  to  the  suffering  poor,  it  has  not  induced  me  to 
shun  one  neglected  alley,  where  lay  on  their  cold 
pile  of  straw  the  starving  and  the  dying.  No,  it  has 
stimulated  me  more  to  stir  up  my  country  to  come  to 
your  aid,  and  I  will  do  it  so  long  as  my  pen  can  move 
and  my  country  has  a  loaf  to  spare.  If  any  one  think 
me  too  severe  in  any  of  these  pages,  let  him  reverse 
the  picture  ;  let  him  suppose  that  America  for  the  last 
fifty  years  had  been  pouring  in  her  destitute  ragged 
paupers  upon  you,  by  wholesale  and  retail.  Suppose 
you  had  welcomed  these  paupers,  had  given  them  labor 
and  bread  till  they  could  walk  upon  the  earth  as  men 
and  women.  And  suppose,  at  the  end  of  fifty  years, 
an  Irish  woman  should  be  disposed  (however  strange 
the  whim)  to  visit  that  country,  to  see  what  these  Ame- 
ricans were  at  home,  to  learn  their  manners  and  habits 
there,  in  order  to  better  understand  them  here,  and  do 
them  good  ;  should  you  not  expect  that  the  law  of  civi- 
lity, the  law  of  Christianity,  and  the  law  of  equity 
at  least  should  induce  them  not  only  to  receive  her 
cordially,  but  to  do  all  in  their  power  to  facilitate  such 
rational  designs  ? 

I  ask  no  answer.  I  put  the  question  not  to  anger 
you,  not  to  complain,  but  to  convince  you  that  such  were 
the  most  honorable,  the  most  Christian-like  way  to  act ; 
and  should  the  like  again  happen,  the  Bible  mode  will 
be  the  best  to  adopt,  to  "be  careful  to  entertain  stran- 
gers," till  you  know  they  are  impostors ;  and  suspect 
not  their  letters  as  forged  ones,  till  some  marks  of  for- 
gery can  be  detected.  What  would  have  become  of 
your  poor  countrymen,  think  you,  in  America,  had  they 
been  treated  thus  r  I  am  glad  I  came  ;  I  am  glad  to  be 
here  in  your  dreadful  famine ;  I  am  glad  to  be  honored 
with  doing  a  little  for  the  wretched  among  you.  Would 
to  God  I  could  do  more.  Three  years  almost  I  have  gone 
over,  and  looked  at  your  pretty  island,  and  with  all  my 
privations,  my  toil,  and  cold  repulses,  I  have  been  paid, 
doubly  repaid ;  and  from  my  heart  can  i  say,  were  it  not 

■    GO" 


456  ,  CONCLUSION.  ~      [chap,  xxvii. 

• 

for  the  suffering  my  eyes  have  seen,  I  should  place  these 
years  among  the  happiest  of  my  life.  I  love  you  all, 
and  would  do, you  all  good,  were  it  in  my  power.  To 
the  Roman  Catholics,  both  duty  and  inclination  re- 
quire that  I  should  acknowledge  a  deep  debt  of  grati- 
tude. They  have  opened  the  doors  of  convents,  of 
schools,  of  mansions,  and  cabins,  without  demanding 
letters,  or  distrusting  those  that  were  presented.  They 
have  sheltered  me  from  storm  and  tempest ;  they 
have  warmed  and  fed  me  without  fee  or  reward,  when 
my  Protestant  brethren  and  sisters  frowned  me  away. 
God  will  remember  this,  and  I  will  remember  it. 

Should  I  ever  reach  home,  I  hope  to  give  a  fuller  de- 
tail of  my  tour,  which  embraced  all  but  the  county  of 
Cavan.  I  have  made  no  mention  of  the  north  of  Ire- 
land, for  want  of  room,  but  cannot  close  without  saying 
that  in  Belfast  I  spent  a  few  pleasant  weeks.  The  Pro- 
testants there  made  me  feel  as  if  I  were  by  a  New  Eng- 
land fireside,  where  I  was  neither  worshipped  as  a  god- 
dess nor  made  a  second-hand  article,  though  I  might  per- 
form some  domestic  service  appropriate  to  woman. 
Their  religion  appeared,  in  many  cases,  like  that  of  the 
heart,  and  their  labors  through  the  past  winter  of  fa- 
mine, and  which  have  not  yet  relaxed,  testify  that  their 
faith  has  produced  good  works. 

I  have  spoken  plainly,  that  I  might  render  unto  Cae- 
sar the  things  that  are  Caesar's  ;  and  as  I  visited  Ire- 
land to  see  it  as  it  is,  so  I  report  it  as  I  found  it.  I 
have  stayed  to  witness  that  which,  though  so  heart-rend- 
ing and  painful,  has  given  me  but  the  proof  of  what 
common  observation  told  me  in  the  beginning — that 
there  must  needs  be  an  explosion  of  some  kind  or  other. 
But  awful  as  it  is,  it  has  shown  Ireland  ho  are  her 
worthy  ones  within  her,  and  who  are  her  frit  ids  abroad, 
and  it  will  show  her  greater  things  than  the^e. 

May  God  bring  her  from  her  seven-times-hea+  .  fur- 
nace, purified  and  unhurt,  and  place  her  sons  an  daugh- 
ters among  the  brightest  of  the  stars  that  shaU  Aine  for 
ever  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  is  the  sir  :e  desire  of 
the  writer. 


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